The Traveller: Crossover Part II
by Channeller
Summary: The sequel to the sequel to the show that never was! This time, it's certain crewmembers' turn to have a change of scenery...
1. Should've seen that one coming

Title: The Traveller: Crossover Part II 

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.

Spoilers: Nope

Rating: PG-13, to be safe. I let people talk freely, and sometimes swears pop out!

Reviews: As much as possible

Website: http://www.geocities.com/eternivision Plenty more stories, even if it's not fanfiction. (And sign the guestbook, ah go on, go on, go on!) end shameless plug

A/N: Okay, so I couldn't stay away... Those nice reviews are just addictive! This story will be pretty stand alone, you'll be able to read it even if you haven't read part I, but you might be a bit confused at times, ie: who the hell are these people they're talking about? Actually, no, I tell a lie. You'd probably have to read the first one to know what's going on...

OK, before I start I just want to make one thing clear. There seems to have been a bit of confusion around the Traveller show. There **IS NO** such show as 'The Traveller'. I once wrote a novel about the show, and that's the only place it ever existed. So, scouring the TV guide will do nothing, you won't find it. Same thing applies to Pitch and Milon, they're plain old made up.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter One: Should've seen that one coming

"Where's Harper?" Dylan asked.

It was the fifth time the question had been posed, and the degree of annoyance had grown accordingly.

"He has locked himself in the machine shop and engaged the privacy mode. I have been down there, pounding on the door, but he just refuses to open," Beka answered.

"Well, the meeting is in twenty minutes, and I he is not getting out of attending this one!" 

Beka just shrugged her shoulders to let him know that there was really nothing she could do about the situation. The last time any of them had seen Harper was about three days ago. He had seemed very excited, even for Harper, but refused to tell them why. After that, not a word.

"Okay, that does it. Andromeda, override privacy mode! Authorisation..."

Dylan rambled off something to do with breaks and colours and japanese symbol for cat's bottom and Rommie confirmed that the door was now unlocked.

"Beka, would you go down there and get him please?"

"On my way."

She exited the bridge with a look of determination. This diplomatic meeting was clearly very important to Dylan, and could use a good excuse to remind Harper that there were certain responsibilities he would just have to get used to having.

Time passed. No Harper. No Beka either. Seriously, who'd be the captain on this ship! Eventually, Dylan turned to Tyr and opened his mouth. 

"Tyr, would you..."

"I thought you would never ask."

Tyr left the bridge with an even more determined expression. The time to let Harper get away with murder had definitely come to an end, he would see to that.

------------------------------------------------------- ad break ---------------------------------------------------------

"What is going on in here that is so important that you cannot spare half an hour to attend the meeting with..."

Tyr forgot the rest of the sentence as he saw what was going on inside the machine shop. Harper was bent over a consol, keying in number so fast that it looked as if his fingers had taken on a life of their own. A screen in front of him displayed a rapidly changing series of images. Beka was standing at his side, looking over his shoulder. That was nothing unusual. The strange thing was that the far end of the room was not there. Instead, there was the same image as the one on the screen, only live-size, and changing just as rapidly.

At the sound of Tyr's voice, Harper spun around. He looked like he had not slept in days. Or eaten for that matter. Big, black rings under his eyes, and his clothes creased like he had decided to permanently boycott the iron.

"I've cracked it!" he said.

"What, your skull?"

"No! Channelling! I thought it required insane amounts of energy, but the thing is, you can loop it back! The energy! Ah, you wouldn't understand..."

He turned back to the screen and resumed his frantic typing.

"I understand that now is not the time to be playing with your toys! Dylan requests your attendance at this meeting and..."

"Ah, shut up!" Harper shouted, "Don't you get what a big thing this is? Interdimensional travel baby!"

Tyr did not appreciate being interrupted, but he appreciated even less being called 'baby'. Although of course he knew Harper did not mean it that way. He was just about to grab a hold of Harper for some of the patented shaking, but suddenly something happened. The strange flickering at the far end of the room spread rapidly across the floor, eating away the solidity of the room.

"Ah crud, not good, NOT good..." Harper had time to shout and then the floor disappeared from beneath their feet.

They fell. Not far. About a metre. Nobody got hurt. The three of them stood up and looked around. No sign of the machine shop. No sign of the ship. No enemies in sight, no dangers. Just a deserted street shrouded in twilight. They were in the biggest trouble of their lives.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a bit short, I know, but I have to figure out what's going to happen before I can write it!


	2. Involuntary vacation

Chapter Two: Involuntary vacation

"Harper!"

Tyr's roar echoed slightly between the brick walls of the alley. He picked Harper up by the front of his jacket and slammed him against the cold stone. Maybe he was hurting him, but he was too angry to care.

"What have you done? Where are we?"

"Let me go!"

Harper started kicking violently, trying to free himself from the iron grip that kept his feet off the ground. It was of no use. 

"If I did not think that we would need you to get back, I would gladly break your neck right now!" Tyr scowled.

From the look on Harper's face, he understood perfectly that Tyr was not exaggerating. Or not exaggerating that much. He looked frightened and angry, but there was something else as well. Tyr did not even bother trying to put his finger on what it was. He had even less time for Harper's annoying personality than he used to. Come to think of it, he had much less time for anybody lately. He had been feeling irritable and... trapped for a while now. Thinking back, it was probably a good while. About six months. Tyr did not really want to admit that it might be more than just a coincidence, that the events six months previous was not the sole reason for this feeling of discontent. He had already admitted to himself that he had made a mistake, telling Milon to go. A mistake that had cost him... what? A valuable asset to the crew? An ally? A... friend? Having to admit, on top of that, that he had let that mistake affect his feelings for this long after, it was just something he would rather not do. So what if he took some anger out on Harper? He had plenty to spare.

"Tyr! Let him go!"

Beka did not sound panicked, or even very angry, more annoyed. Like this kind of behaviour from Tyr's side was starting to get old. Tyr dropped the engineer, but did not stop staring him out.

"Don't panic!" Harper said, sounding like he was panicking, "I think I know what happened. And... I think I have a pretty good idea where we are... I think."

"Well, share!" Beka said.

"The channeller... must've activated. I must have missed something..."

"Is it bad?"

Beka kept her calm, something Tyr always admired even though he did not seem to be so good at it himself these days.

"Well, I have good news and bad... It's pretty clear we're not on board the Andromeda anymore. That's the bad news. The good news is that there's really only one place we could've ended up. The last co-ordinates that were activated. The last place the portal opened to. And if we're there, at least we know we can get back!"

"Oh no!"

Beka covered her eyes and shook her head.

"Please, tell me you're joking! We're not _there, _are we?"

Harper nodded. Tyr failed to see why she would be so upset. This dimension, the place where their visitors had come from six month earlier, surely that would be the least unfortunate place to end up. Like Harper had said, at least they knew they could get back from here. There were channellers in this dimension. All they had to do was find them.

The three of them walked slowly out of the darkened alley, and looked down the street. It was truly a depressing place. Hardly a single house was left intact. Most windows were either boarded up or stared empty and glassless out into nowhere. A burnt out car was carelessly parked on the pavement. The street was desolate. No streetlight left unbroken, and night was rapidly falling.

"Yeah, we're here, and we should probably make the best of it," Harper suggested, "Like a holiday, right?"

"No Holiday," Tyr said, "We'll find Milon and tell him to get us back home. He said he was well known on his homeworld, it should not prove too difficult to track him down. The sooner the better."

"Hmm..."

Beka did not look too happy.

They walked rather aimlessly along the streets for a while. There were a few houses that seemed inhabited, but most looked too run down for anybody to live in. The odd shop, windows primitively reinforced with chicken wire. Then, suddenly, they turned a corner and it was like walking into a different world. Huge, brand new skyscrapers reached towards the sky. There were lights all around and they could see people walking around, looking like they were anxious to get wherever it was they were going. This looked like the main street, but there were surprisingly few vehicles.

"Look!"

Beka pointed to something across the road, at the brightly lit signs on what looked like a square on the other side. Tyr followed her finger and saw what it was that had caught her attention. A big television set in the window of one of the buildings. And it was showing a familiar face. They ran across the street, avoiding the few cars that were coming, and stopped in front of the window. There sound was turned down, but as the pictures changed behind the glass, they knew that this had to be an episode of the television show that Milon had been talking about. It looked like it had to be an old one though, Tyr thought, because Milon looked a good bit younger even than he remembered. 

As the show broke for ads, a loud crashing sound dragged their attention away from the window. Across the square, a glass pane had shattered, spraying sharp shards across the cobblestones, and a big, human shape fell to the ground amongst the glass, followed by another one, jumping out the window. People were gathering around to watch, blocking Tyr's vision of the scene before he could get a good look at either of them. In a gap in the crowd, he could see the thrown man quickly getting up and brushing the glass off as if it had been sand or dust. The fight had clearly only started, and there did not seem to be anybody attempting to stop it. Suddenly Beka took off; heading straight for the mayhem that was quickly building up.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Harper called after her, but she did not even turn back.

Tyr drew his forcelance and was just about to follow her across the square, when a big van with rotating lights on the roof came screeching around the corner, getting in his way. Several men dressed in kevlar and armed with what looked like some kind of stun guns jumped out. Clearly some form of riot squad. A short burst of chaos ensued and the crowd scattered like a flock of mice when the lights come on. Tyr instinctively understood that getting caught up with the police -or whatever they were here- would not be a very good idea. He reached out, grabbed Harper by the arm and pulled him into a narrow alley just off the square.

"Tyr! What are you doing, we have to hlp..." 

Tyr put his hand over Harper's mouth, cutting off that never-ending stream of words. Not because he really thought they had to stay very quiet, but simply because he was just not in the mood for the boy arguing with him right now. Harper struggled briefly to free himself, but not for long. Tyr let his hand fall down onto Harper's shoulder, just in case the boy would try something stupid like running out there and rushing into trouble. He did not though, just stood there calmly, not even shaking Tyr's hand off. Around the corner, Tyr could see the police grab the man who had been thrown through the window and drag him into the van, which sped off. Order returned. Tyr walked out onto the square, looking around. The crowd was gone. Unfortunately, so was Beka.


	3. The last man on Earth

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thanks very much to those who reviewed! I hope you won't be terribly disappointed when you realise this really has no plot... oops, did I say that out loud?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Three: The last man on earth

Beka wasn't quite sure why she'd took off when she'd seen that uncomfortably familiar shape jump down from the window. The most reasonable explanation was of course their chance of getting back home. They'd agreed that finding Milon would be the only way to go about it, and surely, this had to be the second best. Yeah, second best, sure. Or the worst. Worst idea she'd had in... six months. Or ever.

As she reached the crowd that was gathering around the fighters, there was a loud wailing of sirens, and people started scattering in all directions. Great. Bodies were bumping off her from all sides, and in the tumult, she lost sight of her target. She got a quick glimpse of the swat team making a rapid approach, and then she was pulled backwards, around a corner, into another one of those narrow alleys that seemed so popular around here.

"Beka! Fancy seeing you here. Missed me that much?"

Oh yeah, it was him alright. The one she was looking for. The last man she wanted to see. Pitch was smiling at her, more or less cornering her against the wall.

"Oh, believe me, if I'd had things my way, I'd never have to see you again in my life!" she snapped.

"As far as I remember, you had things exactly your way..."

He was giving her that look again, his black eyes radiating heat that she could almost feel on her skin as he leaned closer. Yeah, she remembered it all too well. Having things her way. Only, it turned out that it hadn't really been her choice. He had used his ability to influence her judgement, make her feel things. She really didn't need to remember the things he had made her feel.

"Come on," he said, grabbing her hand.

"If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you must be even more full of yourself than I thought!"

"Would you rather go with them?"

He pointed with his thumb at the riot-gear clad policemen who were arresting people left and right, sweeping the area for any suspicious looking individuals. Under which category she would most likely fall in the eyes of the law.

"Spend a night in the lock-up, getting pawed by New City's finest perverts? And that's just the guards..."

Damn. He was right, that was the worst thing. She looked around one last time for Tyr and Harper, but there was no sign of them. Tyr could take care of himself, she didn't doubt that, and hopefully he'd look after Harper as well. She turned and ran, reluctantly following Pitch down the street.

"So, what brings you here then?" he asked as they finally stopped running.

She had always had a good sense of direction, but they had turned so many corners and taken so many short cuts that she really had no idea of how to get back to the square where she'd last seen her crewmates. She had a feeling that Pitch was quite aware of that fact, as well as happy about it, but she didn't like it one bit.

"Harper's machine. It activated by mistake. Sent us here. So, we need one of those channellers. I'm guessing you know where to find one?"

"Maybe. C'mon, let's go in here..."

He made a gesture towards a building with a large neon sign over the door. 'The Silver Club' it read. There was a queue of people outside, and two bouncers on the door.

"What's this, a bar? I'm not going to a bar with you! I just want to know where to get a channeller and then I have to find Tyr and Harper."

She had no intention of letting him distract her from the mission. Only, what mission? Okay, so the matters in hand then. She had to get back to the ship. Attend the diplomatic meeting... God, that would be boring. Would one quick drink really hurt that much? Now that she knew about his ability to... charm her, she wouldn't fall for it a second time, right? 

He was still standing outside, waiting, just looking at her. So sure that she'd change her mind. Just one drink then, just while she waited for the police to go away so she could go back and look for Tyr and Harper. She knew what she was doing; she had complete control over the situation. Right?

The club was really classy, looked brand new. It was definitely not something you'd expect to find in the same town as those deserted, run down streets where they first had arrived. This was more like some place on a space drift, some place she would happily have chosen to spend shore leave at. 

"What's your poison?" he asked, looking at her like that again.

Funny choice of words, that. He was poison. Like alcohol. The kind that would make you wake up the next morning swearing to yourself that _this_ was the last time. Only, it never was, was it? And so she was back to the kind of thoughts she really didn't need to be thinking right now. Or ever.

"Whatever. I don't care," she said, shrugging her shoulders and struggling to sound sufficiently bored.

As he made his way to the bar, she looked around the room. The people in here looked like the rich and famous, no doubt about that. All the women were wearing glittery, skimpy dresses. She was wearing her pilot's uniform, standing out like a sore thumb. Ah, well, that didn't bother her. She noticed to her amusement how many of them were looking at Pitch, pretending they weren't. Obviously, he was a celebrity here, she knew that already. The way the bouncers had treated him was another proof. It was funny though; the envious, hateful glances she was getting from the other women. If they had only known how welcome they were to have him, as far as she was concerned. Been there, done that, she thought to herself, stifling a laugh before she remembered that _that_ was the very reason she was angry with him in the first place. Wasn't going to make that mistake again. Not if he was the last man on earth.

"Let's go sit over here..."

He led her over to a table by the wall, a little bit out of the way of the main room. She sat down, across the table from him, not beside him. On second thoughts, that might have been an even worse idea, because it made it all too easy for him to look into her eyes. 

"You look good," he said.

"Don't even start! The only reason I'm in here is because I'm waiting for those cops to clear off so I can go back and find Tyr and Harper."

"Sure," he smiled, "And I'm not starting anything, no need to be so defensive..."

Yeah, right. She picked up the glass he had bought her, looking at the silvery, translucent liquid inside. Wondering what it was but not really wanting to ask. Whatever it was, it looked like he was drinking the same thing, so she guessed he hadn't bought something horrible just to annoy her. She tasted it, finding it both sweet and refreshing. And strong. There was a lot of alcohol in this, and she had absolutely no delusions about the reason for that.

"So, how are things on the Andromeda?" he asked.

"Same as always. Non-stop action."

Her thoughts went to Dylan, rehearsing his speech and polishing his boots for the big meeting. She hadn't had a holiday in nearly a year. And the last time _she_ had seen some non-stop... no! Terrible choice of words on the way. Some _fun_ was what she meant; the last time she'd seen some fun had been... six months ago. Damn.

"I can imagine," he said.

"Well, do you know how we can get back or what?" 

The smallest edge of annoyance was coming through in her voice. This wasn't good. 

"Oh, you want my help?" he feigned surprise, "Well, it could be tricky. EterniVision is going bankrupt; their facilities are shutting down. You might be looking at a few weeks before something can be arranged..."

He was a damn liar. She knew very well that he was a damn good liar.

"I haven't got a few weeks! There must be some way..."

She swallowed her anger and took a deep breath. This was not going to work. He was holding all the cards, she didn't have a chance of getting back unless... He had tricked her last time. Used her, more like. Maybe it was time she got her own back? She sat back in her chair and eyed him up. What had she seen in him? Alright, so he was good looking. Well, he was... no, good looking was enough of admittance, she'd stick with that. And he was charming, only that was not a natural personality trait, it was all trickery. For which she would so not fall this time. Yeah, Beka, you've said that already. But he wasn't a nice guy. He'd broken Tyr's bone blade. He'd treated the rest of the crew with... indifference at best. He was bad news. Just the way she liked... did _not_ like it! Yeah, that's right. Just the kind she made a point of staying the hell away from. Oh, that drink must have been stronger than she thought.

"I should go looking for Tyr and Harper," she said, finishing off the last of her drink.

"Sure. But if they've any brains, they've scarpered. The guards don't really take too kindly to people without proper identification... not to mention aliens."

He was right of course. Milon had never heard of a Nietzschean when he came to the Andromeda, which could only mean that the last thing Tyr should do here was getting involved with the law.

"Besides," Pitch continued, "it's getting kinda late. This town isn't very nice at night. Be easier to find them tomorrow."

"Alright. So do you know any hotel or something around here where I can go for the night?"

"Beka, let me tell you about hotels, okay? They're either damp, rat infested hell-holes that'll cost you about 10 creds a night, or they're over the top, luxury hell-holes that will cost you up to 100 credits a night. Provided you book in advance of course. Either case, I hope you brought your account card..."  
He knew fully well she did not have an account card. Or any money at all that would be acceptable around here. She clenched her teeth. He was smiling at her. This was bad. 

"So what do you suggest then?" she asked.

"I think you know your options."

Yeah, she knew. Didn't mean she was happy about them. He knew too. He could've at least said it for her, but no, he had to make her ask him, didn't he. She really didn't want to. Correction, she wasn't going to.

"I guess I'm sleeping rough then," she said coldly.

That only made him laugh of course.

"Beka, you know you can always ask me!" he said.

She hated him. She hated this. But she had no money, nowhere to go, no idea how to get back, no idea how to find Tyr and Harper. Swearing vigorously on the inside and vowing to get back at him for this, she said:

"What, are you offering?"

"Anytime."

He stood up and started walking out. She had no choice but to follow him. This was a bad, bad idea.


	4. Lost boys

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Lora; this is what's going on with Tyr & Harper. Don't hate Pitch! He's not that bad really... um... well, maybe. And you're SO not going to like the next chapter, that's all I have to say... evil mode cancel

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter Four: Lost boys

They had given up looking for Beka after about half an hour. It was impossible, she could have gone anywhere. Running off like that without informing them of her plans was careless and stupid and Tyr was feeling annoyed. Well, even more annoyed than he had up until now.

"Well, at least we know she's looking for Milon as well..." Harper said, "so when we find him, she'll probably find us..."

"And what makes you think that he would be that easy to find?" Tyr snapped.

"I don't know! He's famous, isn't he?"

"Well, maybe you think that we should just start asking around then? And even if we do find out where he is, do you think it will be that easy to get to talk to someone who is that famous?" 

Tyr was raising his voice. It had been a long day.

"You don't have to shout at me!" Harper shouted, "I'm so fucking sick of you shouting at me! You've been in this pissy mood ever since he left, so I thougth you'd be the first to want to track him down! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Tyr held back the urge to slap Harper in the face and bit back any other words of anger that were on their way. The boy was right. Only, Tyr did not think anybody else had noticed how much worse he felt these days. Just having to look at that scar on his stomach every day. Keep getting reminded of the fact that Milon had saved his life. It was grating on his mind.

"I was not shouting," Tyr said, "there is no need for you to throw a tantrum."

Harper just gave him an uninterpretable look and did not say anything else. Good. A bit of peace and quiet and maybe Tyr would have a chance of coming up with a plan.

They wandered around for a while, looking at the wild mixture of hi tech and utter ruin that was this city. It was dark now, a clock on one of the buildings showed ten past eleven. Only a few people were still out, almost running between the buildings. As if that was not enough, it started raining.

"Oh, this is great!" Harper called over the sound of the heavy raindrops smattering against the asphalt, "We're gonna get soaked! Hello pneumonia!"

That was a point. The last thing Tyr wanted was a sick Harper on his hands. He would only slow him down. They seemed to have ended up back in the bad parts of town as well. Tyr could see a fire burning in a car at the end of the street. This was Earth, all right. He reached out and pulled the rotting boards from a window on the house they were passing and looked in. A musty smell greeted him from inside, but it was too dark to see very much. Harper pulled out a flashlight from his toolbelt and shone it inside the room. It was full of broken furniture, stacks of old newspapers and empty tin cans. At least it did not look like the water was leaking into the room. It sure was smelly though.

Harper crawled through the window with ease, but Tyr had to squeeze through the remaining boards, rusty nails scraping at his back. Once inside, they found that there was only one room left of what must once have been an apartment. On the far side of the room, the wall had fallen down blocking off the doorway. There was probably a risk of more stones falling down into the room, but Tyr could not see any on the floor. The ceiling was made of planks, they looked solid enough. The rubble blocking the doorway might have come from the other side. This room looked stable enough.

"Look, a fireplace! Throw some of those newspapers over here," Harper said.

He had the fire lit in a matter of minutes. Tyr sat down, making sure he was not leaning against something that might give way. He supposed it could be worse. They were not in any immediate danger and, as far as he knew, Beka was not either. They sat quiet for a while, listening to the rain pouring down outside.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened six months ago?" Harper said finally.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, why did you get so pissed off when they left? Did Milon do something I don't know about?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, do I? That's why I'm asking you?"

Harper was most likely just talking to keep the boredom away. But Tyr was not in the mood. Sounding a bit more serious than he actually was, he said:

"Mind your own business."

Harper glared at him angrily, then muttered something under his breath, of which Tyr could only make out 'mood' and 'bastard'. If there was something Tyr could not stand it was people who would not speak up.

"If you have something to say to me, say it to my face instead of mumbling to yourself!" he roared.

Harper jumped to his feet, his face red with anger.

"I said: I've had about as much as I can take of your foul mood, you don't have to be such a bastard! There, happy now!"

Before Tyr could answer him, Harper ran towards the window, crawled through the boards and disappeared from Tyr's view. Tyr walked up to the window and looked out, but Harper had already gone, turned a corner or something. Tyr deliberated internally for a while whether to follow him or not, but he knew that by the time he had squeezed through the window and chosen a direction to go, Harper would already be far gone. He knew where Tyr was, when he'd calmed down, he'd be back. Hopefully. Why the engineer had to be so impulsive was beyond Tyr. They were in enough difficulty as it was, Harper running off on his own was not going to help. But this was Earth, so much like the place where Harper had grown up, only there was no war on here. The boy would be fine, Tyr was sure of it. Well, almost sure.

He sat down in front of the fire, throwing on another bit of wood from the broken table. The rain was still hammering against the street outside, but in here it was starting to get really toasty. Tyr was starting to feel a bit sleepy. 

Harper ran down the street. He was already soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to him as if they wanted to stop him from going any further. But nobody was going to stop him. Why couldn't it be Tyr who got lost and Harper and Beka could've stuck together. They could've gone somewhere fun, a bar or something. Had a bit of a laugh, a holiday. But no, it had to be that big, sulky, stupid Tyr who he got stuck with. Well, no longer. He would track Milon down on his own. Find Beka on his own. And hopefully get back to the Andromeda without Tyr. That would be sweet...

When the air was burning in his lungs and he was starting to see little white spots in front of his eyes, he stopped and breathed. He must have run back into the newer parts of town. The houses here were intact, the windows unbroken. There were lights and billboards. It looked like a normal city, not some bombed out warzone. Harper suddenly caught a glimpse of a blonde head of hair coming out of a doorway across the street. It looked like some kind of nightclub. Beka! And she was with that guy, Milon's friend. Pitch. If that was in fact his real name! Harper laughed invertedly, talk about luck! This was a real two-in-one job! 

As he started to cross the street, a car suddenly pulled up outside the club and Pitch and Beka got in. No! Harper ran as fast as he could towards them, calling Beka's name, but it was too late. They didn't see him, and the car sped off down the road, the red taillights shrinking away into the darkness. Typical. The bouncer outside the club gave him a suspicious look, so Harper turned and walked around the corner to the side of the club. There was an alley leading off the street, in behind the building. Maybe, if he was lucky, there would be a window he could crawl in through. There was no way that bouncer would let him in, besides, it looked like a classy place, they probably charged entrance. The alley was narrow and cluttered up with litter and overflowing bins. But there was a warm flow of air coming out of a vent in the wall. And there was a window. Harper climbed up on top of the largest bin (more like a skip with a lid) and peered in through the dirty window. It was the toilets, of course, and he couldn't see anybody in there at the moment. Balancing carefully on the edge of the bin, Harper reached up and tried to jimmy the window open. It didn't seem to want to budge, and he really didn't want to smash the glass. Suddenly, a door opened inside the room, and Harper ducked down quickly to avoid getting spotted. Unfortunately, as he did so, his foot slipped on the grimy edge of the skip and he fell backwards, down onto the smaller rubbish containers below. His falling body managed to knock over several bins and the clang of denting metal echoed between the walls. Smooth, Harper. He looked up from his place among the garbage and saw the window open and a head stick out. Harper jumped to his feet, ready to run in case this meant more trouble.

"Hey, what's going on out there?"

A man in his thirties with dark blond hair and a fake-looking tan eyed Harper like he was trying to memorise what he looked like. Maybe he was thinking about what he'd say to the police? Harper told himself not to be so paranoid, but really, didn't paranoia and realism go hand in hand on Earth?

"Nothing," Harper said, removing the token lettuce leaf from his trouserleg.

"Is that right? So, you weren't trying to sneak into the club then?"

"What? No!" 

Harper made an insulted face, but the guy in the window just laughed.

"Well then, I guess you don't want to come in for a quick pint before we close?"

There was something slightly odd in the way he was looking at Harper, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was right now. Harper knew that he probably shouldn't accept favours from complete strangers in this place, but what could go wrong? He didn't have any money, or anything else that anybody would be interested in robbing him off. The place would be full of people and the guy really didn't seem to have any reason to hurt him. Besides... a pint would be nice right now. Like, really really nice. He deserved one after having to put up with Tyr's bad humour and all the shouting.

"Okay then... if you're buying..."

He climbed up on the bin again, and slipped in through the open window. Landing on the white tiles of the toilet, his boots left big, muddy footprints on the floor. The man who had invited him in said:

"Caught out in the rain, huh? You from around here, I haven't seen you before?"

"Nah, I don't... don't live around here..."

Harper walked over to the sink and started wringing oily water out of the sleeves of his jumper. The other man watched him quietly. He was quite tall and thin, wearing clothes that Harper thought made him look like a pimp. Well, maybe he hadn't been first in the queue when God handed out taste, but so what? 

"What's your name?" the other man finally asked.

"Harper," Harper said before his brain had a chance to consider lying.

"Harper... well, seems you really got drenched out there... maybe you'd like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Sure, but where?"  
Who was this weirdo? And was he carrying around a spare set of threads wherever he went? Harper's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by his stomach making a loud, rumbling noise. He had actually forgot how hungry he was.

"I'm the house DJ, I have a room upstairs. I've just finished for the night, the place is closing up... the management don't mind som after hours drinking though, they'll just deduct it from my fee..."

"Ah, well, in that case..."

It was just too tempting to resist. Drink. Maybe even food. Dry clothes and somewhere warm to keep the rain off his head. What motives this guy had for helping him out... well, that could wait until later.

"What's your name by the way?" Harper asked.

"Call me Viper."

Oh, that's right, this was the city of weird names, wasn't it? Harper gave up on trying to make his jumper stop dripping water onto the floor and followed Viper out of the room and up the stairs.


	5. Very bad things

Chapter Five: Very bad things

"Make yourself at home."

Pitch opened the door on a small flat. More like a bedsit really, but it was nice and clean, modern looking. Beka stepped inside and looked around. She had expected his place to be... flashier or something. Or more tasteless. Ah, well, not that it mattered; she didn't plan to stay long here. There was no spare bed, but the sofa looked comfortable and big enough so she wasn't worried.

"You hungry?" he asked.

She considered lying and saying no but what was the point? She needed to eat. Might as well take advantage of his hospitality.

"Sure," she said.

He disappeared out into the kitchen and she had a closer look at the place. There were no pictures on the walls, she noticed, only some strange-looking masks. No photos anywhere. She had a quick look through his disks, but there were all by bands she'd never heard of. Of course, this was another dimension, she kept forgetting that.

So, this was EterniVision. The massive building complex where he'd taken her. There had been lots of fingerprint identification and security controls before they got into the lift and went up to where his room was. Apparently there were more on their guard than ever, now when the company was about to go under. Whatever.

"I hope you don't mind micro pasta, only I'm not exactly a gourmet chef or anything..."

Hah! Tyr could cook. There you go... Why did she just think that?

"I don't mind. So, do you know where I can find Milon?"

She leaned against the frame of the doorway, watching him taking down plates and glasses.

"Milon? Haven't seen him in a while. He's not very... sociable these days."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I guess people change."

He said that like it was supposed to mean something. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds, and she got the feeling that she really didn't have him as sussed out as she'd thought. Maybe there was something behind all that self-confidence? Then he broke the eye contact and went on with the non-cooking.

She had to admit that the food was nice. Although, as hungry as she was, she'd eat much anything by now. He kept topping her glass of wine up on the sly and she was starting to feel slightly... warm. And relaxed. He wasn't flirting with her, which she was grateful for. Also a little surprised; it was not what she had expected. But definitely not disappointed. Definitely not... He just looked at her now and again and gave her that minimalistic smile which seemed to affect only the outmost corner of the left side of his mouth. And the eyes. Very much the eyes. She found that smile disconcertingly hard not to return. Eventually she looked up from her plate and noticed that he'd been looking at her.

"What?" she said sharply.

"Just looking. Haven't seen you for so long..."

"Well, if it was up to me, you never would have seen me again," she said, but she couldn't keep her voice all that hard.

"You really hate me that much?" he said, almost looking at little... sad?

"I don't hate you, I just don't appreciate the way you took advantage of me."

Her words sounded hollow and whiny in her own ears. Like a teenage girl who couldn't get over it. It was embarrassing.

"Ah, yeah... I should probably not tell you this then..."

Now he looked embarrassed. What was it he was going to tell her?

"Tell me what?"

"Well... back on the Andromeda, I wasn't quite honest with you..."

"I know that already!"

"No... I mean... when Milon told you about my Gelf, my... ability or whatever you want to call it... I knew you would think I used it to manipulate your feelings. And... I let you believe that..."

He looked up, into her eyes, as if to see what her reaction would be. Confusion, was probably what he saw. She didn't quite understand what it was he was telling her.

"What do you mean? You did manipulate me..."

He shook his head, looking like he expected her to break out in a fit of rage, then said:

"No Beka... I didn't. I lied to you... I just thought it'd be easier, for myself, to leave if you were angry with me... I guess that was pretty selfish of me..."

He really looked like he felt bad about this. But what did that mean? That the feelings she'd had, the intense passion she'd felt for a few days, that was real? Well, what was so wrong about that? She was single. She was a grown, independent woman. She had the good sense and tact to avoid a relationship with her crewmates. Why should she not enjoy herself with someone likeminded? And she had enjoyed herself... Unwanted memories floated to the top in her head, making her blush slightly. 

"So... you never used your... powers on me?" she asked.

He looked her straight into the eyes. It was a little strange, looking into his eyes. Because they were black, she couldn't see where the iris ended and the pupil started. She could imagine what that would do to people who claimed to be able to tell if someone was speaking the truth by seeing if their pupils were contracting.

"No," he said finally.

She just raised her eyebrows and lifted her wineglass off the table, taking a sip and thinking the situation over. Seems she might have misjudged him. 

"So, how come you're telling me now?" she asked.

He smiled a hesitant smile,

"Well... I told myself that it didn't matter what you thought about me. That I didn't care. But... seeing you again... I guess I do care."

Well, this put a whole new spin on the situation now, didn't it? Maybe he hadn't used her, but he'd lied to her, so who'd blame her if she used him now? She was sure he wouldn't say no. And her feelings were safe. Despite what they'd had; the chemistry and the truly mind-blowing... um, chemistry, she knew for a fact that she would never, ever fall in love with him. He was gorgeous, but not someone she'd want to spend every day with. Not built for talking... ok, now that's a very sexist thing to say... so what? The point was there was a hundred reasons why she wouldn't have to feel bad about this. And it had been six months since she'd had... things her way.

She emptied her glass and walked over to where he was sitting. He looked up at her like he was trying to figure out what was on her mind. Almost like he expected a blow to the face. She pulled him to his feet and kissed him. No use wasting time with silly games. He returned her kiss long enough for her to remember that he was just as good a kisser as (she'd thought) he was a liar, then pushed her away gently.

"Beka... I'm not sure we should be doing this... it might be bad..."

Bad was the last thing it'd be. Oh, he meant it that way. Bad for who?

"I'll risk it," she said and that was the end of that argument.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: FanFiction's TV screen goes all pixellated here, because we're not allowed to show such filth anymore, especially 'cause this is PG-13! Or is that my crappy excuse so I don't have to suffer the embarrassment of writing the naughty scenes? I don't know, do you?


	6. In the pink

Chapter Six: In the pink

"Do you mind if I ask you: what's that thing on your neck?"

Harper was sitting on a small space on the desk in Viper's room. The rest was taken up by computers and music equipment. It was almost as messy as one of Harper's workbenches in the machine shop. It made him feel strangely at home. The odd guy had made him a sandwich and given him a beer and Harper was feeling increasingly happy with the fact that he had left Tyr behind in the dark, damp hole in the wall. Served him right for shouting at Harper. Although, the DJ was giving him some weird looks, which he until now had been pretending that he didn't notice.

"Uh... it's a bio-port?" Harper chanced.

He knew Milon had one, so obviously they existed in this dimension.

"Yeah, that's what I thought it was! I've just never seen one that... advanced looking before! You mind if I have a look?"

Harper couldn't say he didn't mind, but he supposed he owed the guy something so he sat still and let Viper examine the neural interface on his neck. The guy's hands were clammy, but Harper kept quiet.

"So, are you into mechanics?" Harper finally said, as the silence was becoming a bit uncomfortable.

"No, not really. I'm more of a software man myself. But I do appreciate nice tech when I see it..."

Viper stopped fingering Harper's bio port and reached for more beer. He sat down on the bed and looked intently at Harper.

"So... Harper... what do you do when you're not trying to sneak into night-clubs?"

"I wasn't trying to sneak in!" Harper's face took on a telltale pink hue; "I was just... looking for something."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Doesn't matter. Anyway, I repair stuff. That's my job."

That was safe enough. Not too much information.

"Aha."

Viper reached over and opened a small cupboard beside the bed. He took out something that looked like a small plastic box. Inside, Harper could see something that looked like pills. They were pink. He put the little box down on top of the cupboard and looked like he was trying to make a decision on something. Suddenly, he bounced up off the bed and ran over to a large TV set in the corner. The screen came to life and Viper said to Harper, without taking his eyes off the TV:

"Almost missed the Traveller! I know it's a repeat, but I never get enough of that show..."

The Traveller? That was Milon's show, wasn't it? Harper was almost sure that he had heard him call it that. Maybe watching it would give him some clues to where he could be found? But he couldn't really see the TV very well from his place on the desk. He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed so that he could watch it. Viper sat down beside him. The show started. 

"Ah, an old one!" Viper said, "The old ones are the best ones, in my opinion... look how young he is there... that's what I remember. That's how he looked when I knew him..."  
He sounded almost... nostalgic. This was getting weirder and weirder. Sometimes Harper wished that people would be as easy to figure out as machinery, but he really couldn't seem to get a grip on this guy. He'd thought at first that he looked in his thirties, but now at a closer range, he looked more like in forty. Maybe more. Clearly he was trying very hard for it not to show.

"You used to know Milon?" Harper asked.

"Oh yeah. When we were both young... well, he was younger than me of course... we used to go Streaming..."

"What's that?"

"You know, go into the Streams?"

Harper shook his head.

"You mean, you've that big fancy bio port and you've never been in the Streams? What you get it for then?"

"Um... software maintenance..." Harper mumbled, fidgeting with the little ring pull on his beer can.

"But no Streaming? You one of those goody goody people who wouldn't dream of doing anything illegal?"

He gave Harper an almost suspicious look. Harper was beginning to feel a bit like it was time to leave. But he really didn't want to go back out there in the rain and the darkness.

"No! I mean... no, I wouldn't say that!"

"Hmm. Ah well."

What was that supposed to mean?

"So, you've no idea where Milon is now then?" Harper asked.

"EterniVision I guess. Why?"

"I just need to talk to him."

"You need to talk to him? What's that supposed to mean?"

Viper laughed a little as if Harper was the one acting strange. Harper didn't quite know what to say. He couldn't really tell the guy he knew Milon from his quick visit to the space ship where Harper worked. He'd think he was fit for a padded cell. Thankfully, Viper didn't wait for an answer, just said:

"Well... I might be able to arrange something..."

"You would?"

Harper couldn't believe his luck. Of all the people he could have run into, it happened to be a guy who knew Milon personally! But Harper wasn't stupid. He knew that there must be some reason for why the DJ was helping him. He must be wanting something in return. Judging from those weird looks he was giving Harper, it couldn't be anything good.

"Sure. But not now... tomorrow..."

Viper leaned over and picked up the little box with the rose-coloured pills again.

"You know what these are?"

Harper shook his head.

"They're nice. Have one."

Every instinct in Harper's brain was screaming 'bad idea!', but unfortunately the main psyche decided not to listen. That beer he had drunk must have been stronger than what he was used to, because he was starting to feel nicely mellow after just a few cans. It looked like Viper was putting a pill in his mouth and then sticking his hand in the box again to pick another one up. He held it out to Harper.

"What is it, what does it do?"

"Just the same as drink really... only faster. It's completely harmless, trust me..."

Harper was not really that fond of drugs. Apart from alcohol of course. But the day he'd had. The life he'd had. What the hell? He opened his mouth before he had time to change his mind. The pill was extremely easy to swallow; it was like it just slipped down unnoticed. For one second, he couldn't feel anything. Then he could. It was like everything turned red. Not anger red. Good red. Warm. Very warm. His eyes closed and he fell backwards on the bed. It felt like someone was touching him, it was nice. He forgot all about where he was, what was going on. All he could feel was warm hands. He could imagine it was Trance or maybe even Rommie. Yeah, this would do nicely.


	7. Desperately seeking Milon

Chapter Seven: Desperately seeking Milon

Tyr woke up as daylight found its way in between the broken boards of the window. The fire must have gone out several hours ago, because the room was freezing cold. Not a problem, he was fine with the cold. The uncomfortable after-effects of sleeping sitting up, leaning against a wet stone wall, were all present and accounted for as he got to his feet and wiped the dirt from his trousers. The charm of fake leather, it was practically dirt repellent.

After crawling out through the window, getting new scratches on his back, Tyr looked down the street. It looked even more miserable in the harsh light of day. A small cloud of white mist came out of his mouth as he sighed and stretched his complaining muscles. Harper had not come back, as he had hoped he would. If he had got into trouble, got himself killed, guess who would take the blame? But Tyr refused to act the baby sitter. Harper would just have to learn to take care of himself. 

It was not hard for Tyr to find his way back to the square where he had last seen Beka. The broken window had been sloppily covered up with a sheet of cardboard and some sticky tape. The glass had been brushed aside, rather than removed, and Tyr could see that the place was still open for business, even at this hour of the morning. 'The Black Rose' read the sign on the wall. Some kind of bar or restaurant obviously. Tyr pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The room was almost empty. Except for one man behind the bar and a lounge girl walking around cleaning the tables and emptying ashtrays, Tyr was the only person in the place. There was a TV set above the bar, the sound turned down low, and it was playing another episode of that show. He recognised Milon instantly, despite the fact that now he had lost his white hair, his head was bald but covered in metal wires and circuits. He was sitting on some kind of examination table in a laboratory. He looked very distressed, Tyr thought. Milon had told him that everything that happened in the show was real and planned. The pain they had put that poor boy through for other people's entertainment, it was making his blood boil with anger.

"Can I get you anything?" a voice came from beside him.

The lounge girl had walked up to him and was eyeing him up and down with ill hidden curiosity.

"Perhaps you could give me some information," Tyr said, turning to look at her.

The girl threw a quick glance over towards the bar, to check that the barman was not listening no doubt, and then she gave Tyr a short nod.

"I am looking for that man," Tyr pointed towards the television, "do you know where I can find him?"

The girl looked up at the TV, then back to Tyr. She smiled as if she was fairly certain he was winding her up.

"Who, Milon? Are you pulling my leg?"

Tyr frowned.

"No."

The smile died on her face and was replaced by a cautious look.

"Well... as far as I know, he's at EterniVision... you don't know him, do you?"

"Yes I know him. Where is this EterniVision?"

"You don't know where it is? What planet are you from?"

She was laughing at him now. Tyr did not appreciate being the object of her humour, but he knew that he would get nowhere if he tried to threaten her, so he just forced himself to smile.

"That does not matter. Can you please tell me where it is?"

Suddenly a look of astonished realisation bloomed on her face. She started almost whispering:

"Oh! Oh, you're from _somewhere else _aren't you? I've never met anybody from a different dimension before! And you've actually met Milon? You know, Pitch was in here last night... as a matter of fact..." she glanced around again, "it was him who broke our window!"

She had the shiny-eyed look of a schoolgirl with a crush on some celebrity. Which was probably not too far from the truth. She looked very young. Tyr looked very patient. But inside he was grinding his teeth, as it suddenly became much too clear where Beka had gone off to. Or whom with.

"I see. So, where can I find him?"

"Well, EterniVision is on the Shuttle line. You've to go east, it's just three stops, but... they won't let you in. EterniVision is, like, super guarded! They won't let you see him!"

"I do not think that will be a problem. Thank you for your help."

Tyr turned around and started walking out. Then he remembered something and turned back.

"Do you have to pay for this shuttle?"

"Yeah, of course you do! Oh, I get it. You don't have an Account Card, do you?"

"No."

"Hang on a second..."

The girl ran over and slipped in behind the bar. After a few seconds rummaging on the shelf among all the bottles, she returned holding something, which she handed to Tyr.

"These are old tokens... I'm pretty sure you can still use them... it's one to get there and one to get back..."

She gave him another smile, one that said that she would not mind him coming back.

"Thank you."

"Oh, and if you get to speak to Milon... will you tell him... tell him that Anne in the Black Rose is his biggest fan, will you do that for me?"

Tyr nodded and stuffed the tokens in the pocket of his trousers. The girl was practically jumping up and down with excitement. Without further ado, Tyr exited the club and made his way to the Shuttle station.

The train was strangely modern. It hovered almost silently above the ground, suspended on some kind of invisible energy field. Maybe magnets. The car was full of people staring blankly ahead. Most of them did not even look out the windows as the train rushed past a long distance of wasteland to finally arrive at the next stop. A single street, left out in the middle of nowhere. It looked strange and lonely. But this was not Tyr's stop.

The next stop was some kind of massive factory area. The majority of the people in the car got off here, only leaving Tyr and two ragged-looking individuals in the far end of the train. They did not stir when the Shuttle arrived at EterniVision, so Tyr stepped out on the platform alone. He exited the station and ended up just across the road from a set of massive gates. Behind them was a complex of buildings, taking up a vast area of land. Beside the gates was a plaque: 'EterniCorps'. Not a soul was moving behind the gates, it must be very early in the morning for the rich and famous. This was it. 

The guard in the booth next to the gates wanted to know what business Tyr had there.

"I am an old friend of Milon's," Tyr said, "I would like to see him."

The guard laughed at him. 

"Oh, I'm sure you would."

"Yes. So, are you going to let me in or not?"

"Erm... let me think about that... Yeah, I'm gonna say not."

The guard clearly found the situation very amusing. Tyr, however, did not share his feelings. 

"All you have to do in call him and tell him I am here. He will tell you to let me in."

"Sure pal."

The guard picked up a newspaper and demonstratively started to read it. Tyr had had about as much as he could take of these self-important Earth people. He thought briefly about drawing his force lance and see if that glass really was as bullet proof as the guard no doubt thought it was, but decided against it. He had already lost contact with Beka and Harper, getting into serious trouble with Milon's employers was not a step in the right direction. So, instead he put his face right up to the glass and stared at the guard.

"Listen to me: sooner or later, I will be speaking to Milon, and I'm sure he will not be happy when he finds out that you are the one who kept his friend waiting..."

Tyr did not feel totally comfortable playing the "friends in high places" card like this. Especially since he had not really made his mind up whether Milon really was a friend, but it seemed like he had no other choice. The guard got a small crease of anxiety across his forehead, so at least the tactic was doing something. 

"Well, you should have an appointment then," the guard said, then continued, "Besides, he's not here."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he's not here! Not in. Not available."

Tyr took a deep breath and tried to count to ten.

"So, where is he then?"

"I don't know, do I! It's not like he tells us lowly guards where he's going every time he goes out!"

Tyr could not stand to listen to the man for another minute. He looked away, in at the buildings, wondering whether Milon really was in there somewhere, or if the annoying guard was actually telling the truth. Suddenly, a movement caught his eye. A dark shape was coming out of one of the doors. It did not take two seconds for Tyr's sharp Nietzschean vision to recognise Pitch. 

Tyr called out his name, loud enough to make the guard jump. Pitch turned his head and looked at him. A strange little smile crept onto his face as he started walking down towards the place where Tyr was standing.

"Hey, it's you... I forget your name..."

Pitch stopped a little bit behind the gates, looking at Tyr through the bars. He did not seem as surprised to see Tyr as he should have been.

"It is Tyr, as I am sure you _do _remember."

"Whatever. So, what are you doing here?"

"I am looking for a way to get back to the Andromeda. Milon told me there were machines here that could break through the walls of dimensions... I need to use one."

Pitch just smiled at him. Tyr could tell by the look on his face that he was loving this.

"Oh, you do, do you? Well... seems like they're in here and you're out there, so I'm guessing that might prove a bit tricky for you..."

"That is why I... I need your help."

Tyr squeezed his forcelance in its holster. He did not think he had ever met another man who made his trigger finger itch as badly as Pitch did. But once again, he was more use to him alive than dead. 

"I didn't help you enough when I saved your ass in that corridor? It seems to me like you're pretty much down on your account of favours."

"So do not help me then!" Tyr growled, "can you at least tell me where I can find Milon?"

The smile disappeared from Pitch's face. He stared coldly at Tyr through the metal bars of the gates. Then he said:

"I don't know where he is."

Before Tyr had a chance to protest or ask any more questions, Pitch turned his back on him and walked away. 


	8. Fool me twice

Chapter Eight: Fool me twice

"What took you so long?"

Beka sat up in bed and stretched. She had slept later than she had in a long time. Maybe ever. She should be doing something about the situation, but what could she do? At least getting Pitch on her side would be more beneficial than running around like a headless chicken looking for a needle in a haystack. Besides, it was warm in bed and cold out.

"I had to go across the road. Canteen sandwiches are nasty. And then I ran into an old friend..."

Pitch put a paper bag down on the small table by the sofa and walked over to the bed. He was giving her a look that was impossible to interpret.

"What?" 

"You in a hurry to get back?"

Beka felt her own smile widen.

"Well... I suppose..."

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Pitch went to open it, and a young woman stepped into the room. She couldn't be a day over twenty, but her long hair was still all grey. When she saw Beka, she got a decidedly disappointed and hurt expression on her face, but didn't say anything.

"Jo, what's up?" Pitch said.

"Is Milon back yet?" she said, "It's been days! I've been trying to ring him, but he must have his comms off, because there's no answer... I'm getting worried..."

"Jo, you have to give him some space! He's been through a lot of shit. You don't have to worry, he can take care of himself y'know."

The girl just nodded unhappily and let Pitch more or less push her out the door. When he turned back to Beka, his face had taken on that stony expression again.

"Is that Milon's girlfriend?" Beka asked before she had time to think about it.

"No," Pitch was frowning at her now.

"Okay, I was just asking!"

"Get dressed."

He walked out into the kitchen, not even waiting for a reply. Beka felt a familiar feeling of annoyance bubble up inside her. Was this not the thing she had intended to steer clear of him for? The moodswings, the sudden turns from charming to a complete bastard. Well, she'd walked into this one with her eyes wide open. She climbed out of bed and pulled her clothes on. But if he thought for a second that she would let him order her around any more, he had another thing coming.

Pitch was standing by the kitchen counter, looking into thin air as the kettle was boiling. He didn't notice her stepping into the room. She simply could not resist the temptation of sneaking up behind him and poking him in the ribs for a laugh. But he didn't laugh, far from it. He spun around and pushed her away so hard that she was thrown across the room, slamming into the kitchen table. A dull pain spread across her back. That was going to leave a bruise.

"Fuck's sake! What'd you do that for!"

She could tell from his upset voice that he had reacted instinctively, not meaning to be so rough. Still, he ought to lighten up!

"You alright?"

He offered her a hand, but she was already halfway up off the floor. She was probably lucky he had not been trying to hurt her. He looked strong, but not _that_ strong. It had been like being shot out of a cannon.

"I'm fine," she said, "but what the hell is your problem?"

"You took me by surprise, is all. Listen, you'd better head off. Find your mates. Take this..."

He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her. It was a small, plastic card with 'Visitor' printed on the front.

"That'll let you back into the lobby. Get the receptionist to give me a buzz. If I'm there, I'll come down. If not, wait."

"So you're not coming with me?"

She didn't even know why she was asking. It was just the way he was speaking to her, like there was nothing between them, no attraction. So totally different from yesterday.

"Why would I come with you? I've things to do."

And he turned his back on her again. Suddenly, Beka felt a sneaking suspicion that she had been tricked. Again. But no... no. She was usually not the type to fall for cheap tricks and lies. Still... 

She ate her breakfast, and the feeling was growing steadily stronger. She noticed that he wasn't looking her in the eyes as much as he had before. And when he did, there was none of that... magnetism there. How could she have found him so irresistible only last night? If not...

"You did it again, didn't you?"

He looked up from his breakfast, looked into her eyes.

"Did what?"

"Lied to me. Used your ...whatever you call it on me."

A thin smile was forming on his face. Then he said:

"You knew all along. And you still wanted it... You're just as bad as me."

She slammed her mug down on the table and pushed her chair back. This was... too much. She had to get out now, before she ran the risk of pulling her gun on him. The fact that her anger only seemed amusing to him made it all the worse. 

"Try it once more," she said, "you'll regret ever meeting me, I swear."

"Sure baby, whatever you need to tell yourself..."

Of all the smug, arrogant, conceited... Beka could feel her blood boiling. She'd better leave now. She'd better leave before this turned really ugly. She stormed out, slamming the door, leaving his mocking laugher behind.

It was about 11 am, local time, as Beka got back into the City Centre. With no money to pay for a taxi or even the Shuttle, she had been left with no other option besides walking. As things were now, the long hike suited her just fine. Following the solitary, cracked asphalt of the only road leading through the wasteland, the fury inside her gradually diminished. He wasn't even worth all this emotion! He was basically just a male slut who she'd decided to have some fun with and now it was back to business. Nothing to get upset about at all.

By the time she finally arrived in town, she had calmed down sufficiently to start planning what to do. First thing on the agenda was trying to locate Tyr and Harper. They should have enough sense to return to the place where they had last been together. The square outside the bar where Pitch had dragged her away. Then, after that, they could start looking for Milon.

To her disappointment, neither Harper nor Tyr was to be found at the square. They ought to have come back here! All she could do now was wait, and that was not one of her favourite activities. The big window that Pitch had thrown... -whoever the unlucky sod was -through, still had not been replaced. It looked out over the square like a big, blind eye. But the club would be a good place to wait, if only she'd had some money to buy a drink. Yeah, she could really use on right about now.

People were coming and going across the square, keeping their heads down, moving swiftly on to wherever it was they were going. The light in this place was so grey. Like the sun had never shone and wasn't planning to start now. It was depressing really. What a dump of a town. 

She watched almost a whole episode of 'the Traveller' on the TV in the shop window. She hadn't really got to know Milon when he was on board the Andromeda, but he'd seemed nice. Obviously he'd got some hard knocks in his young life, but it didn't seem to have made him bitter or cynical, and that was quite refreshing. Tyr seemed to have really taken to him, although he would never admit to it, and Beka thought it would've been healthy for him if Milon had stayed. Might lighten him up a bit, metaphorically as well as literally speaking, she thought, remembering the blindingly strong light Milon had been capable of generating. But the one who had been saddest to see him go was Trance. She had been moping for weeks. 


	9. Bursts of brilliance

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hello? Is there anybody still out there? I saw some tumbleweeds drifting across the reviews page earlier, and there's this strange, hollow echo in the last couple of chapters. I'm scared... Talk to me! Anybody... please?

Chapter Nine: Bursts of brilliance

Harper woke up feeling bad. Really bad, even for him. He was shaking uncontrollably, freezing cold and hurting like he'd been in a plane crash. At first he had no idea where he was. Then he realised that he was lying in a bed next to somebody. What the hell had happened here? There was something vaguely pink about his memories. That guy... he'd given him something. And then... there endeth the memory, and Harper felt strangely happy about that. He'd been drugged, but why? That weird DJ guy was still sleeping beside him. Well, at least most of his clothes were firmly in place, so whatever had happened couldn't have been _that_ bad. But oh, he felt like shit. Felt like crying, for no real reason. He tried to get up out of bed, but it was too cold. He couldn't stop shivering. Some more memories started coming back to him. Hands, touching him. That could't be good. Realisation started to sneak up on him. This guy was obviously some kind of pervert... and Harper had been taken advantage of. Not fully, so to speak, but certainly enough to freak him out. He had to get out of here.

Ignoring the shakes and the aching muscles, he climbed out of bed. He found his shoes and his jacket easily, but getting them on took a bit more time. Especially tying the laces with finger that refused to keep still. He was just about to sneak out the door when he heard a voice behind him:

"Going already?"

He spun around and stared at Viper, who was sitting up in the bed.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Harper almost shouted.

"I just wanted to help you relax, you seemed a bit tense. Why, did you not enjoy yourself?"

"I can't remember! But I feel like hell now! And I wanna know what you did to me!"

"I gave you some Uforya. What you feel now is called 'the Plunge'. You'll be absolutely fine in about twenty minutes."

"Oh yeah? But you were... messing with me while I was out! Don't think I don't know! You're some kind of weirdo!"

Harper pointed his finger at Viper, all the time ready to bolt out the door. But the DJ didn't even leave the bed, he just yawned and said:

"Not much. You looked so cute all pinked up. I couldn't help it. But I was good, I didn't do anything indecent to you."

"Ew! I should hope not! You could've told me though... that you're... k'now..."

Viper just shrugged. Indecent or not, Harper just wanted to get away from him. But he had said that he might be able to fix it so Harper could get to talk to Milon. It was about time to call in that favour.

"So, do you know where Milon is or not?" Harper said, rather grouchily.

"Milon is at EterniVision. I work at EterniDisks. Come with me and I'm sure we can fix something..."

Okay! That was more like it! Harper waited by the door for what seemed like an eternity while Viper got dressed. Finally they were out the door, down the stairs and out onto the streets once again. A short Shuttle ride later, Harper found himself at the massive gates of EterniCorps. Completely unaware of the fact that both Tyr and Beka had already been to the very same place, he walked through the gates, following Viper up the broad driveway towards the nearest building.

"This is EterniVision. They're security mad. You're going to have to get a visitor's pass at the reception desk," Viper explained as they entered through the big glass doors after having left their fingerprints in the console by the entrance. 

"Sure..."

Harper looked around. The lobby was enormous. All shiny glass and metal. A few plants to give the place a less sterile feeling. Behind the large wooden desk sat a blonde woman with glasses. She looked bored. When Viper walked over to her, she almost instantly frowned.

"Hello. This is my friend Harper. I need a general visitor's pass made out for him..."

"Why don't you get it at EterniDisks?" the receptionist asked.

"Well, because your security guards are such narky fucks mainly. And I want to be able to walk across the tunnel without all the hassle."

The woman just gave him a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, but nevertheless she took out a small plastic card and ran it through the computer. Suddenly, there was a pinging sound and the doors opened on of one of the lifts across the room. Harper turned his head and looked, eyes widening when he recognised Pitch. Before either Viper or the secretary had any time to react, he'd sprinted over to the actor.

"Hey! Remember me!"

Pitch nodded at him with a hint of a smile.

"Sure do. Harper, isn't it? How's it going?"

"Not so great. Kinda stranded here. This machine I built just had some ideas of its own... and I've lost Beka and Tyr... all in all, not so great. Maybe you can help me?"

Pitch wasn't looking at Harper any more, he was staring over his shoulder with a hateful look in his eyes. Harper turned around to see Viper give Pitch a false smile.

"What are you doing here?" Pitch said in a dark tone.

"What am I doing here," Viper aped, "I'm only the guy who brought your dear old friend out here!"

Pitch looked at Harper again with a frown.

"What are you doing with a scumbag like him?"

"Well... I didn't know... he was a... scumbag."

Harper's voice fell steadily in volume until he was almost whispering. Pitch seemed to accept his answer though, because the angry look was mellowing somewhat. Harper remembered Milon saying one time that Tyr reminded him of Pitch, and Harper could kind of understand that. Although at least with Tyr you knew what would set him off. This guy seemed a lot more unpredictable. On the other hand he didn't seem to have quite as big a bug up his ass as Tyr did.

"Well, he is a lowlife and you'd better take my advice and stay away from him before you wake up one morning with a sore hole."

"Not even if you paid me," Viper sneered at Pitch.

Pitch just gave him a look that could cut steel, and that shut the DJ up. He gave Pitch a final hateful glance, turned around and walked quickly out.

"You should've come an hour ago," Pitch said, "Beka was here. You just missed her."  
He started walking towards the lifts again, and Harper had to almost run after him.

"Beka was here? What happened? Where did she go?"

"To look for you, I guess."

"So... why was she here?"

Harper put the question a little hesitantly. He didn't really know what had been going on with Beka and Pitch before, but from the coldness of their goodbyes he would have to say that they didn't seem to get on very well. And Tyr hated Pitch too. Harper couldn't see why, he seemed alright. As the doors of the lift closed around them, Pitch looked down at Harper and gave him a kind of guarded smile.

"I asked her."

"To come here?"

Pitch just nodded. There was something strange going on here, he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. Why did Pitch have to be so secretive?

"So, can you get us back home then?"

"Probably. There are channellers upstairs. But you'd have to find the others first... Shouldn't be a problem though. Beka'll be back."

Harper wondered how he could be so sure about that, but decided not to ask. The rest of the journey up to wherever they were going was spent in a strangely unfamiliar silence. 

"I guess you might as well come in and wait..." Pitch said, sounding like it was just a little bit of hassle after all.

Harper walked inside. At least he'd much rather wait here than roaming the streets alone, running into more suspect characters like that Viper guy. Speaking of which:

"You really hate that DJ, don't ya?" Harper said, more for something to say than anything else.

Pitch got something really dark in his eyes, and Harper suddenly wished he hadn't asked.

"Yeah, I do. He used to have this weird obsession with Miles. Pulled some really dirty tricks on him too, when Miles was just nineteen... and too naive I guess to understand the workings of a pervert's brain. Don't get me wrong, I'm not really a raging homophobe or anything, it's just that guy..."

Harper almost wanted to back off a bit. He really did look angry, talking about it. To get his mind onto a less volatile topic, Harper said:

"So... Beka's coming here, you said. Any ideas on how to find Tyr?"

"Well..." Pitch smiled like he had just done something bad and liked it, "... he probably won't be coming back here..."

"You mean he was here too? They were both here?"

"Yeah. But I... told him to get lost. Don't have the time for his attitude. Besides, I was kinda busy at the time..."

That sly smile was starting to creep Harper out ever so slightly. He would have much preferred to have run into Milon. At least he was a laugh. After all those horrible things he'd told them about, he was still funny and cheerful. Not sly and creepy. But, Harper supposed that all this was still better than where he'd woken up this morning.

"So, where are those channellers? Can I have a look at them?"

A slight frown and a suspicious look was all he got for his troubles. It was clear that it was going to be hard work to get any favours out of Pitch.

"Okay..." Harper looked around, wanting to get those piercing eyes off him, "So how are things anyway?"

"Alright."

Now with the silent treatment. Harper almost found himself wishing that he hadn't run off on Tyr like that. There were moodswings and then there were moodswings.

"Where is Milon anyway?" Harper said finally.

"Haven't a clue."

Pitch walked off, out into another room. Harper felt a little lost, standing in a stranger's room, in a strange town, not knowing how to get home. He wondered what Tyr and Beka were doing right now. That gave him an idea:

"Hey, Pitch! If I can have a look at those channellers, I bet I can find a way to locate Beka and Tyr! It's just a matter of isolating their individual energy signatures! Shouldn't be too difficult, becuase we know they're different from yours. Because we're from another dimension, on an energy map, we'll stand out like a sore thumb! Am I brilliant or what?"

Pitch looked at him with the most reluctant smile that Harper had ever seen. It made Tyr's smirk seem like a ray of sunshine. Clearly the big guy couldn't quite shield himself from Harper's sudden burst of enthusiasm. Still, it seemed he tried hard to act like a fed up parent to a hyperactive child.

"... Alright. I guess we can go up there, if that'll shut you up..."

There was no real malice in his voice, and Harper smiled at him until he rolled his eyes and headed towards the door. Yeah, Milon had been right, he was a lot like Tyr.


	10. Long time no see

A/N: Okay, it's been a while, but this time it's a long chapter. Gets very depressing towards the end too. Oh, and thanks to Lora for reviewing so I know there's still someone out there reading this. I do take requests you know!

Chapter Ten: Long time no see

It got dark early in this place. Once again, Tyr found himself roaming rather aimlessly around the city centre. He had gone back to the bar, but the girl who had given him the tokens for the shuttle had not been there. Pity, he might have been able to get some food there. As it was, his stomach was starting to make some fairly loud noises and it was just going to get worse. 

As night fell, the city seemed to reveal a new side of itself. Maybe because it was Friday, much more people were out on the streets, all dressed up. It looked odd; all the shiny, glittery clothes on people who were almost running along the streets to reach their destination safely. Some of them were extreme looking to say the least. Brightly coloured hair, and strange clothes. Well, no stranger really than some of the other places he'd been, but it was just that they were all human. Tyr was not used to humans being so... vivid.

Tyr had not really noticed before what a desperate place this seemed to be. It was just a general atmosphere of boredom so intense it bordered on hysteria. He dropped his hand to make sure his gun was still securely placed in the holster. No doubt this place was full of pickpockets, and although Tyr doubted that any of them would be good enough to take anything from him without him noticing, you could never be too careful. 

The smell of smoke and burning rubber, the sound of screeching sirens and people screaming did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary here, but suddenly Tyr found himself in the middle of another one of these small-scale riots. Several people bumped off him, running from something he could not yet see. Then there was gunfire and his self-preservation instincts told him that since this was nothing to do with him, he should take cover as quickly as possible. 

As he lunged into a side alley, he got a quick glimpse of a huge man with wires hanging out of his arms, holding onto a woman with bright green hair. Then there was a flash of light, another burst of gunfire, and a loud thud. The green-haired woman sprinted past Tyr, into the cul-de-sac. At the end, she stopped and looked up. Trapped, Tyr thought. He was just about to make a mental decision on whether he should be prepared to help her or not, (not) when she suddenly lifted off the ground, rising up in the air as if pulled up by invisible ropes. This was something new! The wind was sweeping into the alley with a force that rattled the lids on the rubbish bins, but it certainly was not strong enough to lift a human being up in the air and onto the rooftops. Tyr could not help staring. Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, making him spin around, instinctively drawing his gun in the process. 

"Tyr! I don't believe it, what are you doing here?"

Milon. Tyr re holstered the gun and cursed the curious whim of nature that had given Milon the ability to sneak up on him unnoticed. But he had been distracted. That was not good enough.

"As a matter of fact, I am looking for you," he said.

"You came to see me? You're joking... I know there's some other reason, c'mon, what is it?"

"No, I did not come here to see you. Harper managed to get us transported here by mistake. I tried to find you because I believe that you can help us to get back to the Andromeda."

Milon gave him a that total, warm smile that Tyr wanted to say made him look a bit simple, but had to admit that it did not really. He could never quite get used to the fact that Milon acted like they were old friends. Good friends.

"Sure, I'll get you back. You're not in a hurry, are you?"

"Well, the sooner we get back, the more beneficial for the entire crew...."

"No, I mean; you are not in a hurry to get back, are you? There's no great panic? No one's gonna die if they have to wait until tomorrow?"

What a strange question. Tyr just gave him a puzzled look and said;

"No, I suppose not. Why?"

Milon laughed at him and grabbed a hold of his arm.

"Because we're gonna have some fun! C'mon!"

Milon took off running through the crowd. People seemed to get out of his way on instinct, only shifting enough to let him through without hitting off him, almost like there was an invisible forcefield around him. Unfortunately, they did not show Tyr the same consideration. He could not afford to lose sight of Milon now though, after having got so lucky as to being found by him, and he pushed his way through, sending people flying in all directions. A few angry shouts followed him as he ran after the white-haired young man who disappeared in between two houses on the opposite side of the street.

He stopped in the alley and looked around. Milon was nowhere to be seen, but all Tyr's senses told him that he was still around here somewhere. He could smell the lingering scent of adrenaline. What had that boy been up to?

"Hey, Tyr, keep up!"

The playful voice was coming from above. Tyr looked up and saw Milon on the fire escape ladder. Where was he going? Tyr was not in the mood for some childish game. He had to jump to reach the ladder, and pulled himself up. Milon had already disappeared up onto the next ladder, heading for the roof. Tyr followed as fast as he could. Eventually he reached the roof, where Milon was waiting for him.

"What is the point of this, boy?" Tyr asked sharply.

Milon turned around where he was standing, right at the edge of the roof. Not until now, Tyr noticed what a tall building this was. If he was to fall off... 

"No point. Just fun. Nice view, don't ya think?"

Milon made a gesture at the cityscape below. From this height you could clearly see the devastation this city had been put through. It was oddly beautiful, the scattered lights among the ruins, burning fires in the dark. But Tyr was not about to lose sight of his main objective.

"I need to locate Beka and Harper and get back to the ship..."

His voice was mostly drowned out by the sound of the wind in his ears. It really was quite a strong breeze up here; it was tearing at every loose bit of fabric on his clothes. And Milon's. He really should not be standing that close to the edge...

"Yeah, yeah. All in good time. It's your first time in New City, I have to show you the sights!"

And with that, Milon stepped over the edge. For a split second, Tyr's insides turned to ice. He couldn't help remembering those scars he had discovered on Milon's wrists. Did he still harbour the same disregard for his own life? Then Tyr stepped forward and looked down. There was a ledge about four feet down, and another set of ladders leading down the wall. Then Tyr spotted Milon on the last one. Damn, he was fast.

Tyr was in perfect condition, not even slightly winded, as he finally caught up with Milon outside a set of double steel doors. After all the twists and turns, over buildings and through dark tunnels, Tyr had almost lost his bearings. Not completely though, but the fact of the matter was that Milon obviously knew this town inside out, and Tyr did not. And now Milon was standing, leaning against the brick wall, just waiting for him.

"You made it!"

"Of course I made it," Tyr snapped. 

He did not care for the implication that Milon would have been able to lose him if he had tried. 

"Why did you try to run from me boy?"

Milon just raised his white eyebrows at him, then pulled the doors open and stepped inside. Tyr followed, only because he had so far and was not about to change his mind now.

It was clearly some kind of bar, the place Milon had taken him. The room was painted mostly black, with mellow lighting. The music was not very loud, but it had a unrelenting rhythm that was impossible to shut out. There were only about twenty people in the whole place. Many of them sat on their own, staring down into glasses most likely containing strong spirits. Milon walked over to the bar and then turned to Tyr:

"What're you having?"

"Nietzscheans do not drink alcohol, if that is what you are asking."

"Why?"

Milon gave him an honestly puzzled look.

"Because it is destructive to your body and your mind. We do not eat rat poison either, for the same reason."

"Well, some times you need a little poison..." Milon mumbled, but still ordered something with the word "virgin" in it. Tyr had heard Harper use the same term before, followed by a rather disgusted look, when ordering him drinks, so he knew it meant alcohol free. Milon got an orange coloured drink for Tyr and a bottle of something that was kind of white, but translucent, like ice for himself.

"Come on..."

Tyr picked up his drink and followed him over to a table where a man was sitting, looking at a small, handheld screen.

"Hi."

Milon stood by the side of the table, waiting for the man to look up from his screen. 

"Milon. What can I do for you?"

"Can I get some oranges please? And... I might need some more of that robot juice as well..."

Tyr could see the man giving him suspicious looks. Whatever it was he was doing could not be legal. And there was something else there as well, when he looked at Milon, some kind of sadness. Or pity. Yes, that was exactly what it was. 

"Sure." 

The man nodded at Milon, still half looking at Tyr. Then he reached into a pocket and took out a small, plastic tube containing orange pills. Were these drugs? Was Milon some kind of drug addict? No, that could not be possible. Trance would have known by the medical tests. Of course, that was six months ago, who knew what could have changed since then? Then the man cleared Tyr's mind of any lingering doubt when he handed Milon what was clearly some kind of syringe. Feelings of anger and revulsion made Tyr grab a hold of the boy's shoulder a little harder than he had been planning.

"What the hell are you doing buying drugs?" he hissed at him, all the time knowing it was really none of his business, and why should he care anyway?

"It's not drugs Tyr! It's medicine. I've got this... condition..."

On the last word, his smile changed into a look of worry, but it soon disappeared. Tyr could not believe he actually thought he would fall for such an obvious lie.

"Do you think I am stupid?" he said in an ice-cold voice.

Milon looked at him, his head slightly tilted. He looked a little sad, but still gave him a pale smile.

"No, I don't."

That was not much of an answer, although that was precisely what it was. Milon handed a small plastic card to the man who did something with it and handed it back. Payment, obviously.

"Cheer up Tyr, it's a night out!"

Milon emptied his bottle and opened the small, plastic container.

"You want one?"

"I thought you said it was "medicine"?"

"The shot is medicine. These are sweets!"

Tyr could tell by the slightly mischievous glint in his eyes that they were certainly not sweets.

"No thank you."

"Ah, come on! You, if anybody, could use some orange in your life!"

"Why, what is it that you take them for?"

"Ah, you know. The sugar rush..."

Milon swallowed a pill and gestured at Tyr to finish his drink. He took a sip, carefully analysing the flavours. Orange juice. No alcohol. Some kind of sweet mixer. It was harmless and quite pleasant. Tyr drank up and followed Milon back out the door. 

"So where do you wanna go now? I know a few places... there's more to this town than meets the eye y'know..."

Milon kept moving; he seemed not to be able to stand still for a second. And rattling on worse than Harper after a six-pack of that revolting cola drink he loved so much. Quite different from what Tyr remembered. Different worse.

"Stand still!"

Tyr grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. He could see an orange tint in Milon's usually light green eyes, which disturbed him. Not so much because it was decidedly not normal for a human being to have orange eyes, but because he knew that it had something to do with those pills.

"What you looking at me like that for?"

Milon smiled and looked back at him without a trace of intimidation. No matter how much Tyr raised his voice or how angry he got, he would never scare Milon. It was as frustrating as it was refreshing. A drop of rain suddenly landed on Tyr's nose. It smelled strangely acidic, dirty. More drops followed, the rain starting as if someone had turned a tap.

"Better get moving if we don't wanna get soaked..." Milon said.

Tyr muttered a response and let go. As soon as he had taken his hands off Milon, the boy was off and running again. This was going to be one long night.

Tyr was not sure how many hours had passed since he had met Milon in that alley. For once, time seemed to have lost importance. He knew there was no immediate rush, nobody was going to die if he took a few hour off and had some fun... somewhere in the back of his head this feeling felt wrong, but it was probably all the pressure of being in the business of war and diplomacy all day every day.

They were in some club. People were dancing everywhere. Tyr had never seen so many bright colours in one place at the same time before. The music was very energetic and the rhythm was slowly starting to creep into his bones. Milon had bought him a few more of those juice drinks that contained no alcohol. Tyr could smell the drink off him now though, although he seemed strangely resistant to its effects. Well, what was the harm really, if he could handle his drink, why not leave him alone? Tyr did not need alcohol to enjoy himself. When was the last time he had some fun? Dylan on his back about weapons and tactics and being polite to people who were better treated with a boot up the arse... here, was his glass empty already? 

Milon was dancing, looking like he'd forgot that there was such a thing as the rest of the world. Looked like fun. Whoa, the colours were bright in here... Tyr never would've thought Earth people were so fond of wearing orange... some nice girls in here... Tyr needed to get a quick lend of Milon's account card so he could get himself another drink.

Only when he got there, Milon grabbed a hold of his arm again and suddenly the room seemed to be spinning around, obviously the room wasn't spinning around... there was a taste like exploding oranges in his mouth... and suddenly Tyr couldn't help laughing. This was all so stupid. Waste of time. But that beat, all those colours... and Milon was laughing at him and it was so contagious. 

"Come on, time to move on!"

Tyr lost sight of Milon's white head in the crowd and pushed his way towards the exit. Where would they end up next? The rain was still beating down outside. In the light of the streetlamps the raindrops looked orange. Milon didn't seem to mind in the slightest being soaked to the skin; he just stood there, looking up at the sky, letting the rain fall right down into his face.

"Hey, Tyr, having a good time?"

"Actually... yeah."

He could feel himself smiling, but unable to do anything about it even if he had wanted to. 

"Good! Hope you're not allergic to the rain... but I guess Nietzscheans have a good immune system?"

"The best. I dunno what's in that rain, but it ain't got a hope."

Milon laughed out loud and said:

"Sounds like I'm starting to corrupt your meticulous articulation! Careful or next you'll be picking up an accent!"

Tyr just laughed, this was so silly. They started walking down the street; Tyr didn't really care where they were going.

"So, how's everything back on the Andromeda?" Milon asked.

"Much the same... boring sometimes. It was better when you were there, you should've stayed, I missed you..."

Milon stopped dead in his tracks and gave Tyr a surprised look. Nothing like the surprise Tyr was feeling himself. Where the hell had _that _come from? Was it true? Had he really come to regard Milon so much as a friend that he had missed him being there? 

"For real?"

Tyr frowned. Why was his head feeling so... odd? He just needed to concentrate a bit more on what was important.

"So, can you show me those channellers now?" was the first thing he could think of.

"Maybe..." Milon took a few steps backwards... "if you can catch me!"

He spun around and started running again. This time Tyr didn't even feel annoyed. He could catch him, just wait and see! The boy needed to learn a lesson about not overestimating his own skills. That's one thing he missed about being a mercenary, when you got the chance to hunt people down. The killing that inevitably followed might not be as much fun as he liked to pretend, but the chasing was always a thrill. And this time he wouldn't even have to kill anybody.

Again, time seemed to go. It didn't matter. The darkness, the wind, the rain and most of all the blood pumping through his veins as he forced his body to its maximum speed, that was what life meant. For all the tedious workouts in the gym, this was what you called training! Like a wild obstacle course, lethal if you slipped up. There was something about the danger that made it. Not _too_ dangerous, not foolishly, stupidly, dangerous. Just about right. 

Maybe Milon didn't know the whole city inside out after all, because eventually Tyr caught up with him on another roof. No escape from here, no ladders apart from the one they had climbed to get here. No other buildings within jumpable distances. No escape... he had him now and... what the hell was he doing? This was no time to be playing silly games! Tyr remembered all too well how he had felt earlier, bubbling with laughter, and that was not normal! He could still taste oranges... 

"You drugged me!"

It came out in a roar as he grabbed Milon by the throat and slammed him up against the large ventilation box on the roof. Oh he had a good mind to break his neck!

"But you had fun, didn't you?"

"How dare you poison my drinks and then try and make excuses for it?"

Tyr was furious, but Milon still did not look afraid. He just looked up at him calmly and did not even try to struggle.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted you to have a good time. Life's too short y'know..."

"And deliberately shortening it further seems to you like a good idea?"

"I swear to you, there's nothing in those pills that will harm you or get you addicted. They are nowhere near as bad as alcohol... promise."

"That is irrelevant! I said no, and you went against my wishes!"

He was starting to calm down a little, but was not about to let Milon know that. 

"Okay! I'm sorry 'bout that. Just wanted some company is all... hey, lemme go..."

There was something so sad and small in his voice that Tyr could not help but let him go. Milon immediately stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the pills, shaking out two into his mouth with a trembling hand. He turned his back on Tyr and walked over to the edge of the roof. The now almost storm was swirling all around them, throwing Tyr's braids around like small whips, threatening to have his eyes out.

"When did you become this... pathetic?" Tyr asked. 

It was not really intended as an insult, but he really wanted to know what had happened to Milon that could have changed him from the brave spirit Tyr had known to this desperate sounding drug user.

Milon laughed, his back still turned, but he did not answer. The wind was making him rock slightly and the rain was still beating down, making the roof slippery. Tyr remembered just how light Milon was from the time he had to carry him, and a particularly strong gust of wind might just be enough to push him over the edge. So what?

"What is wrong with you?" 

The frustration was blazing inside Tyr as he grabbed a hold of Milon's shoulder and pulled him back from the edge. Milon spun around and stared at him, his eyes wide, glassy and orange.

"Hey! Nothing's wrong with me! You ought to lighten up Tyr... live a little while you have the chance. The next thing you know, you could be..."

"Dead?" Tyr said threateningly, "you owe me an explanation, boy."  
Milon turned his head away. Then finally, he started speaking.

"Ok... but you have to promise me you won't tell anybody. Especially Pitch, if you ever see him while you're here... you have to swear you won't say anything..."

Tyr just nodded.

"Okay. I'm sick... I mean really sick... I have this virus called Trial. It only affects Genies, so don't worry, you won't catch it from me."

Tyr watched the raindrops bouncing off the hard concrete of the roof.

"The virus attaches itself to the Elemental cells and breaks them down. Your Gelfs are the first thing that goes, and if you try to use them, that only speeds up the process. That's why I can't heal myself. After that, it moves on to your normal cells..."

"So this is terminal?" Tyr asked.

"A hundred percent."

He still would not look Tyr in the eyes, just stared out over the scattered lights of the city.

"How long have you go left?"

"A fortnight? Maybe more, maybe less..."

"And these drugs, do they help?"  
"They won't cure me. Nothing can."

"And you are afraid."

It was not a question. But Milon laughed a desperate kind of laugh and spread his arms out to catch the falling rain.

"Of dying? No Tyr, I'm absolutely delighted! And terrified..."

He turned around and looked at Tyr. It was impossible to tell if those were tears or raindrops on his face, but judging from his expression, it could be either. Milon continued:

"I'm not afraid of dying. I've been to hell and I've been to heaven and if they'd sold T-shirts I would've bought one. It's not that... it's just... how am I going to tell Pitch this? I can't do that. I've heard that the pain Trial victims go through at the end often drive them mad. When you can't even move anymore and still shake so badly you think your body would just come apart. In the end you just lie there screaming... and that can last for days. Pitch lost his little brother when he was fourteen... when we became friends, when I was young, I had 'substitute' written all across my forehead... I guess that's not all anymore, but I still can't just tell him 'oh by the way, in about two weeks I'm going to turn into a shrieking vegetable and when that happens you'll be a mate and do the humane thing, won't ya?' How can I ask him that?"

He looked at Tyr like he was begging him for an answer. Tyr had none to give. They stood in silence as the wind and the rain raged on as if they would never stop. But everything stops some time.


	11. Meanwhile in another part of town

Chapter Eleven: Meanwhile in another part of town....

"Oh wow!"

Harper stopped in the doorway and stared. For a few seconds he forgot everything else as he was in awe of the amazing machinery in the room. Then he stumbled forward into the room as he was pushed roughly from behind. 

"Hey!"

"Hey yourself. I didn't ask you to stop right in my way now, did I?"

Pitch gave him a half-hearted frown, but there was no real menace in it.

"These machines are built exclusively for travelling between dimensions?" Harper asked.

"Yup. Don't take all night now, I'm not really supposed to have access to this room... really. The guards might wake up."

He didn't have to say that twice. Harper ran over to the nearest console and started figuring the system out. It was simple. Well, obviously it was amazingly complex, but for a genius like him, yeah, nothing to it. Getting back to the Andromeda from here would be a piece of cake. Finding Beka and Tyr on the other hand, that might just prove a little bit trickier.

*

"Damn it!"

Beka felt like slamming her fist straight into the concrete wall in front of her. But that would be stupid now, wouldn't it? Almost as stupid as some other activities she had partaken in recently. Damn it, damn it, damn it! She almost wished she had not found that little, round coin-like object. That little token that said "NCS-1". She almost wished that it hadn't been so damn obvious where it had come from and what it was. A Shuttle token. The crest on the back looked just like the symbol in the station. NCS obviously stood for New City Shuttle. And the one, well, that was one-way. It had been in her pocket. Put there by someone she really didn't want to spend a one-way journey getting back to. Although, maybe Pitch had put it there so she could get back into town after leaving EterniVision. Whatever. She still had his stupid pass card as well. But she was so not going back there. She had to find Tyr and Harper and running around like a headless chicken in a strange city was so much more favourable than spending any more time at the most likely place they would turn up. With that.... man. Even though it was now the middle of the night, dark and pissing rain.

She was fuming on the inside as her feet were doing their own thing, bringing her across the road, up the stairs and into the Shuttle station. What the hell? This was just stupid. Harper and Tyr _would_ turn up at the gates of EterniVision sooner or later, she knew that for a fact. They were not stupid. Not stupid like she had been when she had... nevermind. 

She took the small, metal token out of her pocket and put it in the slot on the turnstile. The machinery gave up a small beep as the little thing clattered its way through the insides. Then there was a plink as it fell out in the cup underneath. He'd given her a bogey token on top of everything else?! This really was the last straw... but the bars moved around easily as she walked through and she picked up the token and put it back in her pocket. She should have known it was some kind of cheat. A pirate token. She shouldn't have expected anything less from him really.

*

Tyr woke up by the sound of a gasping, choked cry. What time was it? He felt so completely disoriented. He was in some kind of warehouse. It was so cold. This was where Milon... stayed now, he guessed. Like a homeless person or something. Was he not supposed to be an incredibly famous filmstar? Whatever he was, it was clear he was in a lot of pain. Tyr sat up in the dirty old armchair where he had fallen asleep. Milon was lying on an equally filthy mattress on the floor. He had told Tyr that despite what this place looked like, it was actually the "safest place for him to be right now." Whatever that meant.

Tyr walked over to Milon's side and kneeled down. The boy was shaking uncontrollably. His face was so pale it was almost transparent. He did not look good. 

"Are you dying?" Tyr asked.

Milon shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

"No... not yet... please, Tyr, can you give me that shot? It's in my jacket..."

Tyr searched his pocket and found the syringe filled with orange liquid. He had to hold Milon's arm hard to keep it from shaking as he stuck the needle in his vein and pressed the plunger carefully. Then he sat back and watched as the trembling slowly subsided. Milon sat up and wiped his face with his hand. 

"Thanks... I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been here... it's never been this bad before... I don't know what to do..."

He looked so afraid that Tyr could not help feeling sorry for him and want to help him, despite the whole drug episode earlier.

"Milon. I know what you told me earlier, but I still think you should tell... your friend. You should not have to go through this alone."

"I can't... I just can't... he's had enough pain of his own."

Tyr said nothing, just stood up and looked around in the room. It was truly depressing. Cold, dirty and desolate. Only a very bad person would deserve ending their life here, alone, in pain. Milon certainly did not.

"I need to get back to the Andromeda," Tyr said, "can you help me or not?"

"Yes. I promised, didn't I?"

He stood up and stretched, suddenly seeming to be fine. Tyr knew it was only the drugs that kept him going, and the fact that they were so effective was more worrying than reassuring.

"What was in that syringe?"

Milon looked at him, almost like he was shy. Then he shrugged his shoulders and said:

"It's an android emotion drug... 'The Life' it's called. It's corrosive as hell to the human bloodvessels, but I figure what the hell, I've only a few weeks left so... it's the only thing that keeps me on my feet and I'm going to get as much out of it as I can."

He looked up at Tyr with a determined, defensive look on his face. Then suddenly, he spun around and walked out the door motioning for Tyr to follow.

*

"Yes! Am I the greatest or what?"

Harper couldn't hold back a little shout of triumph as the three red dots appeared on the screen. This was technology from a different world, a programming language he could not possibly be familiar with and the pressures of knowing that he could get caught in a place where he was really not supposed to be. And despite all these factors, he had done it in less than five hours. He was the king of gadgets!

Pitch yawned demonstratively and sauntered over to where Harper was squatting down, head bent beneath the console cover. 

"You done then?"

"Indeed I am. Allow me to demonstrate the amazing Crewmember Re-locator and Area Placer!"

"C.R.A.P?"

"Well, yeah, the name might need some working on... but the machine is working fine as you can see. These red dots are the telltale energy signatures of someone from our dimension. Three of them, just as it should be. And with the map, I can locate the area where they are! See, that's me right there. Now all I have to do is relay this information to some kind of handset... and we're motoring! Tell me, am I the greatest engineer you've ever met or what?"

"Oh yeah, you're like a god to me," Pitch said sarcastically, "now can we head downstairs?"

"I just need to find something to use as a handset..."

"Here."

Pitch pulled something out of a well-concealed drawer and handed it to him. It was a little portable display with some buttons on it. It took about ten minutes to configure it. It was perfect. 

"I don't know about you, but I'm grabbing some sleep now. Having had to listen to you yapping for, what going on fourteen hours now? Unconsciousness seems strangely tempting."

He gave Harper a smirk that proved he was really only trying to push him. Harper made a face back. Had it really been that long? He knew they'd had to wait forever to get up here. Wait until night, when the security was a bit lax. Pitch had shown him around EterniVision, listening to him talking about life on the Andromeda. For someone who was so... assertive, he was a surprisingly good listener, or maybe he just didn't care enough about what Harper was saying to even bother responding. Either way, it made for a welcome break from Tyr's 'silence boy!' type comments.

"Sure, I guess Beka and Tyr can take care of themselves until the morning... listen, there's something I meant to ask you..."  
"What?"

Harper hesitated. He didn't know Pitch anywhere near well enough to get personal. But after what had happened on the Andromeda, he was curious.

"You took a huge risk bringing Milon back from our dimension... so how come you don't even know where he is now? Have you... fallen out or something?"

Harper didn't look at Pitch, instead he closed the cover on the machine and stood up. He could almost feel those black eyes burning on his back. He was just about to turn around when he heard a beeping noise from the machine. 'Error: unauthorised modification detected... please verify passcode."

"Oh shit..."

There was a counter on the display, red numbers counting down towards zero. Counting down much too fast.

"Eh, Pitch, I think I might have..."

Harper was just about to finish the sentence as the counter reached zero. Suddenly, he was thrown backwards as a massive electrical discharge went through his body. Stunned, he fell to the floor as the smell of burning hair filled the air. Through a haze, he could see Pitch kneeling down at his side, putting his fingers to his neck to find his pulse. He could feel himself sliding into darkness. The last thing he could hear was Pitch's voice saying:

"Oh great. Fucking typical."

Harper wholeheartedly agreed with him.


	12. Trial

Chapter Twelve: Trial

Harper came to with that singed smell still in his nostrils. He opened his eyes and looked around. No more machines, he was back in Pitch's flat, lying on the sofa. The light in the room was blueish and faint, it must be early morning or late evening. How long had he been unconscious?

"Welcome back to the living."

Harper jumped and looked around. He hadn't seen Pitch sitting in the chair on the other side of the table, it was dark in that corner.

"Oh thanks, it's great to be back. What happened?"

"The security protection on one of the channellers got you. Electric shock. Luckilly, it's not set to kill, only to stun you until the guards come around and nick you. Didn't feel like waiting for them."

"You brought me down here?"

"Of course I did. Had the nurse check you out as well, she says you'll be fine."

"And the machine? Is it still working? Have you got the tracker?"

"Listen, you should be happy _you're_ still working, never mind the machine. Which is bolloxed by the way. You'll have to think of something else."

Harper dropped his head back onto the pillow and sighed. Why could nothing ever be easy? Why could there not just be a...

...knock at the door. Pitch got up and opened it, letting a streak of warm electric light in from the hallway outside. Harper didn't even bother turning around to see who it was. Then he heard a very familiar, very determined voice saying:

"Hi. Don't get any ideas, this is the only place it makes any sense for me to wait for my shipmates."

"Beka!"

Harper tried bouncing off the sofa, but found that his body was not yet fully cooperative. At least he managed to sit up. Beka's face lit up with a smile. She walked over and sat down beside him.

"Harper, I knew I'd find you here sooner or later. How did they let you in?"

"I met this guy... um... I'll tell you some other time, okay? I've looked at the machines upstairs, if we can just manage to get access to them again, it should be a piece of cake to get back. Now all we have to do is find Tyr..."  
"I thought he was with you?"

"Well, he was... but I... I took off on my own. He just annoyed me so much with his sulky attitude! There's only so much you can take you know!"

Beka looked disappointed. And tired. Well, that wasn't his fault. Not really. If Tyr hadn't been such a...

...knock at the door. Pitch got up again, this time with a cautious frown on his face. Clearly, he wasn't expecting any more company. Beka and Harper both stared over at the door as it was opened a few centimetres. He heard a low voice from outside talking to Pitch:

"Hi."

"Milon. Since when did you bother to knock?"

"I dunno. Just seemed like the thing to do. You remember Tyr, don't you?"

Pitch didn't answer the question, just turned around and walked back into the room, switching on the lights on his way. The sudden brightness stung Harper's eyes, but the relief of having both Beka and Tyr back in the same room made up for any discomfort he was feeling. Milon stepped in and looked at the two crewmembers sitting in the sofa. He looked a little different, Harper thought, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"Hi. Isn't this great, you're here!"

He walked over and shook their hands. Yes, there was definitely something... wrong with him. Then Pitch spoke up:

"Well, you look like shit. What the hell have you been up to Miles?"

Milon turned around and gave his friend what could only be described as a guilty look. Tyr was standing by the door, arms crossed, not even saying hello to them. What had been going on here?

"I just... I had to get away for a while..." Milon mumbled.

Pitch just kept staring him out, not saying anything. Harper knew that feeling. It was the same silent threat that Tyr kept giving him when he did something wrong. Well, rather you than me mate, Harper though. Suddenly, Pitch grabbed a rough hold on Milon's chin and tilted his head up to the light.

"What the fuck? What are you on?"

Milon pulled back, staring at the floor. He mumbled something too quietly for them to hear. Then Tyr stepped forwards:

"Leave the boy alone! We have more important matters at hand."

"And like I told you before," Pitch answered, "mind your own fucking business!"

Pitch and Tyr stared at each other with the same ice cold intensity. Neither of them was going to back down, look away or show any other signs of resignation. Stubborn bastards. They might very well be here for the day.

"Look, don't you two start! I'm so sick of it!"

Milon stepped in between them. He was either very brave or very stupid, Harper thought. And he was probably the only one in the world who'd get away with doing it. He put his hands out to hold them apart, and Harper could see that his hands were trembling. Not from fear. Pitch grabbed his wrist and pulled him over harshly.

"What are you doing? Shakes, and eyes like that? What the hell are you on Miles?"

"Look, it doesn't matter okay… we can talk about it later. Right now we need to…"

"Right now you need to answer my question!" Pitch interrupted. 

The atmosphere in the room had become so tense that Harper felt like running away. It was like the feeling of an electrical charge in the air just before lightning hit. The sensible thing would be to get out of there. He glanced at Beka who had the same look on her face. Tyr just stood there, watching Milon squirm under Pitch's hard gaze. Then suddenly, he put his hand on Milon's shoulder and said:

"Go on. Tell him."

Milon shook his head, his eyes still firmly fixed on the ground. Then he seemed to take a deep breath and look up at his friend.

"Okay… it's 'The Life'…"

"Android juice? Are you fucking insane Milon? Do you know what that will do to your veins? And your brain? What the fuck…"

He was shouting, but it wasn't just pure anger in his voice, there was a definite tone of despertaion there. Obviously he actually cared beneath that cold surface.

"Pitch! Please, hear me out! I wouldn't use it if I didn't have to… I really didn't want to tell you this but… I'm… I've got…"

Milon hid his face in his hands. Was he crying? What was this?

"What?" Pitch said. 

He almost sounded scared. The answer came so quietly that Harper could hardly hear what he said. But it sounded like he said 'trial'. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Pitch closed his eyes. It looked like he was grinding his teeth. Harper couldn't stand this tension any more, he had to ask:

"What's trial?"

Nobody answered him. He was just about to ask again, when Pitch suddenly said:

"So, how did you manage that? In the streams? Spent some time with Viper?"

His voice was like ice. Milon looked up at him with a shocked expression. 

"I… I don't know… where I got it…"

"You had to let someone jack you in, didn't you? Couldn't stay away no matter how many times I told you. Why, was it to take your mind off your tragic little life? Well, you got what you wanted, you've managed to end it. Good job. Just don't expect me to feel sorry for you."

Milon stared at him. If he hadn't been crying before, he was now. Harper could see silent tears rolling down his face. How could Pitch be so cold and say those things to him? Obviously, whatever it was Milon had, it had to be something bad.

"Pitch… I didn't…" Milon whispered, but Pitch just made a disgusted face and turned away from him. 

Milon looked completely devastated. He made no attempt at trying to hide his tears, just turned around and walked out into the kitchen. Harper could hear a door opening and closing.

"What's…" Harper started, but was silenced by the darkest look he had ever seen Tyr give.

Pitch spun around and looked at Harper, who suddenly regretted ever opening his mouth.

"What was that about? Is that what you were going to ask me?" Pitch said sharply.

"Um… no. I was just wondering what this "trial" thing was… never mind."

"It's a disease," Tyr said.

"Yeah, it's a disease you never have to catch unless you're reckless and stupid. It's a disease you get from the Streams. Where he had no fucking business being in the first place!"

"What's the streams?" Harper asked.

Pitch didn't answer him this time just moved back and forth as if he didn't know what to do. They could hear him swearing under his breath, then out loud and eventually he just roared, punching the wall and storming off out into the kitchen.

"Was it something I said?" Harper quipped halfheartedly, trying to lighten up the mood.

Tyr walked over to the sofa and looked down on him. He didn't look angry as Harper had half expected, but there was something very dark in his face.

"So, do you know how we get back to the Andromeda?" he said.

"Yeah. We have to go upstairs. They have this room with those channeller machines. Although, I kinda set off the security alert once today, so I don't know when we'll be able to… Is Milon really sick?"

"Yes. He is dying."

"From using his bio-port?"

"I do not know how he contracted the virus. But I know that he has around two weeks to live. And that it will be a most painful death."

The room went quiet as neither of them seemed to know what to say. Then it came to Harper, the most obvious thing in the world:

"Can't we bring him back to the Andromeda? If it's at all curable, I know Trance will find a way?"

"He says there is no cure."

"Yeah, well, in our dimension, there might be. It's worth a try, right? It's not like he's got anything to lose…"

"Yeah, it can't hurt," Beka agreed. 

For some reason, Tyr just frowned and stayed silent.


	13. And we're back!

Chapter Thirteen: And we're back!

Waiting. Tyr hated waiting. Sure, sometimes it was necessary, but so frustrating. If there had only been somebody to shoot, some tactical planning. Something other than sitting here, in a stranger's room waiting. 

Pitch had been gone for about fifteen minutes. Beka and Harper were just sitting there, looking saddened but patient. How could they take this so well? If things didn't change Tyr was going to have to kill somebody soon. Pitch, being his favourite choice by far.

Maybe they could bring Milon back to the Andromeda and cure him! Harper had said it, looking at Tyr with that naive, optimistical grin. Like he thought Tyr was going to come over all smiling and amazed at the idea. 'Oh, yes, that never occurred to me at all Harper. I do not know what I would do without you, you wonderful genius!' Stupid boy. Of course Tyr had thought about the option. There was a good chance that Milon would refuse. It would be just the annoying, frustrating thing that boy would do. And then Tyr would no longer be able to hide his anger. Getting into an argument with Milon right now would be no good. And as much as Tyr would like to think that was because they needed his help, he knew it was really because he could not bear to cause the boy any more grief this close to his death.

Suddenly, Tyr was walking across the room, towards the kitchen. Enough was enough. He could wait no longer. Time to get what had to be done done. He strode through the small kitchen and opened the door into the other flat without even considering knocking. He wished that the sight of an argument would meet him. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Milon was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. Pitch was sitting beside him with his hand on Milon's shoulder, talking to him quietly. Obviously they had resolved their differences. Pitch turned around and stared at Tyr as he more or less burst through the door.

"What the fuck! Can you not wait for ten minutes!" he snapped.

"No. I need to speak to Milon now. Alone."

He did not even know why he said that, but out it came before his brain had time to think it over. Pitch just gave him a look of loathing and turned his head away. Tyr wanted to go over there and strangle him, but as he opened his mouth to say something about the urgency of getting the mission done, Harper's words seemed to replace the ones he had intended to say:

"You should come back to the Andromeda with us. Trance might be able to cure you. I am certain our medical knowledge is far superior to that of this world..."

Milon looked up at him. He even stood up and walked over to him.

"Tyr... I'm not so sure about that..."

Just as he had expected. Tyr's voice was a little too loud and too upset when he said:

"Well what do you have to lose?"

"I don't have anything to lose... but if Trance can't help, she won't take that too well..."

"She will just have to live with that!" Tyr snapped.

Milon gave him a pale smile.

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"Well, it was Harper's idea. I am just telling you about your options."

His voice was back under control now, calm and uncaring. Just the way he liked it. Milon turned to Pitch and looked at him in silence.

"If you wanna go, go. If you think it'll help..."  
He sounded tired and sad. Tyr could not care less how he felt.

"I suppose it'd be stupid not to give it a shot. You never know..." Milon said.

"Good, then that is decided. Now we must get access to those machines as soon as possible."

At last. Something to do. Some actual mission work. Tyr felt immeasurably better. He put his hand protectively on Milon's shoulder and steered him towards the door, completely ignoring Pitch's poison looks. Milon just let him, not even looking back. Could it actually be that he was starting to realise who his friends were and... Tyr bit off the thought. This must be some kind of lingering effect of that drug Milon had slipped into his drink. Tyr Anazasi was certainly not the kind of man to get involved in some kind of adolescent, playground-type war about friendships! In fact, he did not keep friends. Just allies and enemies. And not many allies either.

There was a guard outside the door to the room where the channellers were kept. Well, that was only to be expected. Tyr was pulling his gun and was just about to step around the corner when Milon grabbed his arm.

"Don't! I know that guy, you can't just kill him!"

"Do you know him well enough for him to let us through?"

Milon looked down and shook his head.

Suddenly Pitch was walking by them, down the corridor. Tyr could see the guard straighten up and look nervous. Obviously he knew why Pitch was there. Tyr saw them talking to eachother for a few seconds, and then Pitch punched the guy in the face, knocking him out with one blow. The rest of them walked quickly down the corridor and through the door, which opened as the unconscious guard's passcard was swiped through.

Harper ran over to the nearest machine, almost like he was going to hug it. 

"Okay, loading last known co-ordinates of the Andromeda... searching for nearest linear co-ordinates... oh yeah, there she is!"

The machine started buzzing with power and a star of crossing lightbeams formed in the middle of the room.

"This is it! Now's the time, let's get going people!"

Harper jumped into the portal, not even hesitating. He was sure of what he was doing. Suddenly there was a sharp bang coming from the door to the room. Tyr spun around and saw three guards bursting into the room.

"Oh crap..."

Pitch had been standing to one side, Tyr was not sure if it was because he had no intention of coming along, or if he just wanted to see if the others made it through safely before he took the risk. As the guards raised their guns, he had no option but to dive through the newly opened rift in the dimension wall. Beka followed and a gun was fired.

"Tyr, get down..."

Tyr felt himself being pushed, stumbling into the glowing pentagram. The air was already thickening; Tyr was lying in a corridor on board the Andromeda. He was home, but before he could even get up off the floor, Tyr was suddenly weighed down as Milon fell through the portal onto him. He was bleeding.

A third shot was fired, but the portal was already closing. The ceiling in the corridor was visible once again, and the last traces of lightbeams were rapidly fading. Tyr rolled Milon's body onto the floor and sat up. The boy was conscious, but clearly injured. By the bullet that would have hit Tyr if Milon had not pushed him out of the way. This was all he needed.

"Milon? Are you hit?"

Pitch kneeled by his side, looking worried.

"Yeah... well, it might just be for the best, eh?"

Milon's voice sounded weak and tired.

"How is it?"

Harper had already contacted Trance, and there was nothing else Tyr could do but watch as Pitch pressed his hands against Milon's wound to try and stop the bloodflow.

"How is it better?" Pitch said again.

"Well, y'know... it's a lot quicker... and although it hurts like hell right now... it's nothing compared to what the Trial would do..."

Milon tried to smile at them through the pain, but he was having troubles. Tyr knew that he was right about what he said, but somehow he could not suppress the feeling of desperation that was creeping up on him. 

"No Miles, you have to hang on. We'll get you all fixed up... just hang on..."

Running footsteps approached, and then Trance was there and pushed them out of the way. 

"We have to get him to medical..."

Tyr nodded and tried to lift Milon off the ground, but Pitch gave him a hard shove, which sent him toppling over.

"You stay away from him! He'd be alright if he hadn't been saving your sorry arse!"

Tyr growled at him, but made no attempt at stopping him from lifting Milon off the ground. It was true. If he had only managed to teach Milon the importance of survival, he would not have been hit. And he would not have protected Tyr. So did that mean that he had done the right thing? Tyr got up and walked away. Where Milon was concerned, it seemed like Tyr was always bound to lose something in one way or another.


	14. Some kind of game

Chapter Fourteen: Some kind of game

Tyr had lost track of time, but he did not care. Dark thoughts were swirling around inside his head. Too many to sort out. Old memories, newer ones. It was all one big mess of anger and pain. He passed it all out, through his fists, into the punching bag in the gym. It did not seem to work. 

Trance had locked herself in the medical room with Milon. There had been no news of how he was doing. Not that Tyr had inquired. He was busy exorcising his demons in the most violent way he could on board a ship full of people he was not allowed to hurt. Or even wanted. Except...

Tyr stopped punching the bag as he noticed he was being watched. Pitch could have been standing there a long time, and Tyr would not have noticed. Most likely, he had not been. He did not seem to be able to keep his mouth shut for very long periods of time.

"What do you want?" Tyr asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Pitch did not answer him, just stared at him with his black eyes. Tyr knew the signs. He was not there to talk; he was looking for a fight. Well, he had come to the right man then.

"Andromeda, privacy mode!" Tyr called and heard the door lock behind Pitch.

No interruptions this time. No one to come to anybody's rescue. This was between the two of them. He could see that Pitch understood perfectly what he had just done, and he smiled darkly at Tyr. 

"Miles got shot because of you," Pitch said quietly, "he's going to die, and they won't even let me see him before he goes. He probably picked up the virus here in the first place! You should have just stayed the hell away from him you big freak!"

He was quite clearly blaming Tyr for Milon's impending death, although he had been terminally ill even before the gunshot wound. Tyr could almost smell the black rage inside him, but if Pitch thought he could scare him, he certainly had a lot to learn about Nietzscheans.

"I am trying to help him," Tyr said calmly, "something you did not seem very interested in doing back in your own dimension." 

Why was he even trying to reason with this stupid kludge? He was not going to listen. All he wanted was somebody to take his anger out on, and he was too dumb to realise he was picking on the wrong person. A small, bitterly sarcastic laugh escaped Tyr's lips and then he continued in a louder voice:

"I do not know what kind of self-control issues you have, but do me a favour and leave the childish name-calling out of this! You know just as well as I do that I had nothing to do with your friend's disease, just as I had nothing to do with the fact that he was shot! If you want to fight me, for whatever your pathetic little reasons might be, just be a man and say so!"

Pitch lifted both hands and pulled them apart. Black strands stretched between his fingers, like liquid rubber. Tyr had seen this before, and he knew how strong those "ropes" were. He reached for his forcelance on the shelf. If he had not known just how important Pitch was to Milon, he might just have shot him. As it was, he simply holstered the weapon, ready to use it only as a last defence. Besides, he did not need a weapon to defeat this human!

They threw themselves at each other with equal ferocity. Tyr knew that Pitch was a good fighter, for a human, but he could not compete with a Nietzschean in straight forward hand to hand combat. Well, not for very long anyway. Still, he fought fiercely enough to cause Tyr some real pain. He was all too happy to return the favour.

If it was not for that black, sticky stuff that Milon had called "solid darkness", Tyr would have defeated Pitch without the fight turning as serious as it did. But the strands of blackness seemed to get everywhere, hindering him, trying to strangle him. Tyr found out that although they would not break for anything, they could not exist without being attached to Pitch, and they were completely dependent on Pitch's concentration. Each time he tried to use his power to cut off Tyr's air supply, all Tyr had to do was cause him enough pain to drop his concentration and the black snares would dissolve into thin air immediately. But while he was tied, he was also open to similar attacks. 

They were both receiving just as much damage as they were dealing, but neither of them were prepared to give up. Tyr's forcelance had been pulled from his holster and flung across the room sometime during the fight, so the option of shooting Pitch was, sadly, gone. Tyr could feel a broken rib paining his every movement, but then again he was fairly certain that Pitch had a broken arm. He tried to grab it, but the black ropes were getting in his way once again. He threw a punch, but Pitch pulled backwards, leaving a good bit of slack on the "rope" that was tightening around Tyr's neck, almost as if it was alive. Out of his reach, Tyr could not make him lose his concentration, and he was already starting to see black spots in front of his eyes. He hurt. But he was not giving up. He was a Nietzschean, and he refused to be defeated like this. As a last, desperate measure, Tyr grabbed a hold of the black "rope" connecting them. He gave it a strong tug, causing Pitch to release even more slack in order not to get pulled too close. This gave Tyr just the chance he had been waiting for. He picked up the slack, quickly making a loop on it, and threw it around Pitch's neck. Pulling hard, he sent Pitch toppling forward, towards Tyr's raised forearm. And its two remaining spikes. 

The fight was over. The two long, sharp boneblades pierced through Pitch's ribcage and collarbone, respectively. Tyr had not intentionally stabbed any major organs, he knew he was well clear of the heart. At most he had caused a punctured lung. However, it was enough to make Pitch sink to his knees, coughing blood. The black ropes were gone. Pitch was staring at Tyr; his eyes wide open in shock. What, had he expected Tyr to go easy on him? Did he think this was some kind of game?

Tyr pulled his arm back, getting quite a satisfying scream from Pitch as the boneblades were torn from his body. He was still looking up at Tyr like he could not believe he had lost. Or maybe he thought he was dying.

Tyr remembered Milon, the last time he was on the Andromeda, begging him not to hurt Pitch. He was his best friend. Like a brother. That was what he had said. Tyr sighed and called out:

"Andromeda! Release locks. Trance, medical attention needed in the training room."

He looked down on Pitch who was pressing his hands to his chest, still staring at Tyr. Not so cocky now, was he? Still, Tyr did not feel at all as satisfied with this victory as he had thought he would. There was something so desperate about Pitch behind the facade of coldness that he was so intent on upholding. As much as Tyr hated to admit it, he could relate to that.

Only now, Tyr realised that he might well need some medical attention himself. He was hurting. Nothing major, nothing that would not heal quickly. A broken rib, a couple of teeth that would need replacing at the back of his jaw. Bruises. He sank down onto the floor, waiting for the help to arrive. Only, it would not, would it? Trance had locked herself in with Milon. Tyr looked at Pitch, who was now staring down at the floor, at the small pool of dark blood that was forming. His breathing was wheezy. Definitely a punctured lung. And he was very, very pale. Maybe Tyr had overestimated his strength. Just because those mechanical implants in his arms made him able to punch just as hard as Tyr, it did not mean that he could take the same amount of abuse. And it did not mean that just because his injuries would not have been life threatening had they been done to Tyr, they were not life threatening to him... Damn.

"Andromeda!" Tyr called.

There was no answer. Something was wrong. He called out for the AI again, but no response came.

"We're fucked, aren't we?" 

Pitch coughed and more blood splattered onto the floor.

"Maybe you are," Tyr said simply.

He did not feel angry anymore. Pitch was so much less annoying like this. Not screaming and shouting even though he was badly hurt. Not getting all melodramatic and accusing Tyr of killing him. Yes, much better. Pitch looked like he was going to fall over any second. Without thinking, Tyr put his hand out to steady him.

"Getting a bit dark now..." Pitch whispered, "Do me a favour... If Miles makes it through... and I don't... can you just tell him that... I'm sorry..."

"Sorry for what?" Tyr asked.

"Everything... just tell him I'm sorry, 'kay?"

Tyr sighed. He longed for the days of the relatively black and white mercenary work. Good or bad. Kill or not. This whole fuzzy half-enemy-but-not-really stuff was so tiring. Still, he could not really tell Milon that he had just sat idly by and watched his "brother" die, could he?

"Get up, we are going to medical..." Tyr said, hooking his arm around Pitch in an attempt to pull him op off the floor.

Pitch groaned in pain but did not offer any protests. Together they started walking towards the door. It did not open. 

"Andromeda! Open the door!" Tyr called.

Again, no answer. And the door did not open.

"Well, you tried."

Pitch gave him a weak smile. Strange how it seemed as if he had finally lost his animosity towards Tyr. And that was after he almost killed him.

"Yes. Sit down. Rest."

He lowered Pitch back onto the floor and tried to get a grip on the door. It was impossible, and even if he had managed it, he doubted that he would have been able to force the doors open with his broken rib. Maybe Pitch was right. Maybe they were fucked.


	15. Ray of light

Chapter Fifteen: Ray of light

It took Tyr a couple of seconds to figure out why it was so silent. No engine noise, that was the reason. They were just floating soundlessly through space. Something had gone wrong out there while they had been fighting. The AI was not responding. The engines were down. There was no communication with any of the other crewmembers. The only sound in the room was Pitch's wheezing breaths. He was sitting with his head leaned against the wall. His eyes were closed, his face totally drained of colour. Tyr had to admit that it did not look good. If he did not get some medical attention soon, he would not survive for much longer.

"Do not fall asleep!" Tyr said sternly.

Pitch cracked open his eyes halfway and looked at him.

"Why not? You're not trying to tell me that you'd be sad to see me go now, would ya?"

"Be quiet. Conserve your strength."

Pitch gave him that tiny smile and closed his eyes again. Then there was a sharp noise tearing through the silence. It was coming from the other side of the door. Tyr leapt up and ran over just in time to see the bright red flame of a laser cutter eat its way through the metal in a circle. A hole was formed and Harper clambered through.

"Tyr, don't ever say I'm not there when I'm needed and... oh my god, what happened to your face?"

Harper looked around the room and Tyr could see how puzzled he was when he did not see any signs of and accident or explosion. He looked at Pitch's blood-soaked figure and back to Tyr.

"What the hell happened here?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with. What is happening out there? Why is Andromeda not responding to my calls?"

"Um, yeah, I'm not sure about that.... Weird stuff is happening... Dylan, Beka and Rommie are gone! And the AI has shut down and I don't know why! I've tried everything, but it's like... I don't even know what it's like, it's just weird!"

Harper certainly looked distressed. He was rambling, but then again, he was always rambling.

"Calm down!" Tyr snapped, "When did you discover this?"

"Um... just a while ago... about half an hour? Everything seemed to be working fine and then... it wasn't. Beka and Dylan were on the bridge... that's the last place I saw them. Rommie... I don't know where she was. But I've scanned the whole ship manually and they're just gone!"

"What about Trance and Milon?"

"Yeah, they're still in medical. Door's locked. I was just heading down there... only I thought... I'd get you to come with me and... help."

Harper's eyes strayed off to Pitch again. He gave Tyr a worried look and whispered:

"Is he... y'know... dead?"

"No. But he will be soon if we do not get him to medical."

Tyr squatted down in front of Pitch and grabbed him by his unbroken arm.

"Come on. On your feet."

"Not a hope..." Pitch whispered.

"I am not carrying you. You get up now or I leave you here to die."

Pitch opened his eyes. They looked at each other for a few seconds, and then Tyr pulled Pitch's arm over his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. Harper tried to help by getting on Pitch's other side, but was only rewarded with a stream of swearing as the broken arm was touched. 

"Okay, I'll just go ahead then..."

Harper disappeared out through the hole and after a while Tyr and Pitch somehow managed to climb through as well. 

"Stand back, I'm cutting through!" Harper hollered and fired up the cutter. 

Sparks were flying and before long a chunk of door fell onto the floor in the medical room. Trance looked at them with startled eyes.

"What's happened?"

"Have you not noticed our present lack of AI?" Harper asked, "Rommie's gone. And Beka and Dylan, they're gone too."

"I know, I meant what happened to them?"

She pointed one purple hand at Tyr and Pitch. Harper did not answer, just turned and looked at Tyr. Tyr did not answer, just helped Pitch over to one of the tables.

"You did this to each other?!" Trance demanded.

Tyr saw Milon lying on another table. He was not moving. It was hard to tell from here if he was dead or alive. Then Trance was blocking his view as she started treating Pitch. 

"How's he doing?" Pitch asked with a small sideways nod.

Trance smiled.

"He is going to live. The virus was... I could fix it."

"Thanks..." Pitch whispered.

Tyr went over to the table and looked down on Milon. Six months ago, here in the medical room, Tyr had said some very harsh things to him. Things that were really not fair to say to somebody who had saved your life twice. Or was it more? Did it matter? The point was that he could not do this anymore. Not try to pretend that Milon did not mean anything to him. He was a friend and there was no getting away from it. He was like a younger brother, although he was so fundamentally different from Tyr. Whatever it was about Milon, he just brought him something that Tyr had missed from his life. Something to contrast the fighting and the backstabbing in his life. The power struggle on board. The secrets and the lies and all the things that forced him to stay hard and cold and... Nietzschean. He had thought that was a bad thing, weakening him. But it was not. Not at all. 

Tyr lifted his hand and stroke Milon's hair gently, once. This would wake him up. Tyr could see his eyes moving behind his eyelids so he knew he was not unconscious but dreaming. Milon's eyes did open at the touch and he looked up at Tyr.

"Hey... wha'ppen to yer face?" he mumbled sleepily.

"It is not important. You are going to be fine."

"What about the Trial?"

"Trance found a way to cure it."

"Lovely."

Milon smiled again, the real smile, the one that always made Tyr have to smile too. But then Milon turned his head and saw Pitch on the table next to his. He stared at Tyr again, his eyes filled with suspicion.

"What did you do?"

There was no anger in his voice, only worry. It made Tyr feel something he had not felt in a very long time. Shame. He almost found it hard to look Milon in the eyes. And when he opened his mouth, what came out was nothing short of a child's excuse:

"He started it. I mean, he wanted to fight. I was simply... indulging him..."

"But what did you do? Is he okay?"

Milon was trying to sit up, and Tyr braced himself for the outburst that would no doubt come when he saw the serious condition his friend was in.

"One punctured lung… one broken arm and a fractured collarbone… some internal bleeding. Usually it wouldn't be a problem," Trance said, "but because the computers are down... the medical equipment isn't working properly... if at all."

Milon just stared at Tyr and then back at Pitch, who obviously still was conscious, because he said:

"Don't worry 'bout me Snowflake. I gave as good as I got."

"I knew you two didn't get along, but this is fucking ridiculous!" Milon said.

"It is over now though. No more fighting. Agreed?" Tyr asked in Pitch's direction.

"Ah yeah. We'll be the bestest buddies, promise promise," Pitch joked weakly, but Tyr could still tell that he meant peace.

"Um, not wanting to put any stress on anybody, but what are we going to do about the situation… the whole lack of captain and that?" Harper said.

"You are the engineer. You should be able to tell me why the ship's AI is not operational," Tyr said.

"I've already tried everything!" Harper complained.

"Well, try again!"

Harper made an angry face, but ran out the door. Milon sat up on the table and touched his shoulder where the exit wound had been. There was only a fresh scar there now, but he would have to be careful so it did not re-open. Although, maybe now the Trial virus was out of his system, he could heal himself. He climbed off the table carefully and got dressed. Then he walked over and stood beside Trance as she treated Pitch as best she could without the proper equipment.

"Trance... I know you're a great doctor and all... you fixed me. But maybe I should..."

Tyr saw a faint glow growing around Milon's hands as he put them on Pitch's chest.

"No, Milon, I think you should take it easy... you need to get more time to recuperate before..."

But Milon was not listening to her. Of course not. The light grew stronger around them. Trance was staring at the light as if hypnotised. The reflected glow was making her skin sparkle more than usual. Tyr knew how it felt, that light, knitting together torn muscles and flesh. Warm and tingling. He almost though he could feel some of the warmth on his face, but he guessed after what he had done to Pitch, his face would be left to heal for itself.

As the light faded, Pitch sat up and smiled at Milon. He still had some bruises on his chest and face, obviously Milon had to concentrate on healing the internal damages. Pitch reached out with the arm that had been broken only minutes ago and pulled Milon in for a rough hug.

"Ow! Go easy, will ya? Gunshot wound in shoulder here!" Milon said, but it was obvious that he did not really mind. 

Trance smiled and looked like everything was fine. But everything was not fine. There were serious problems they had not even begun to tackle.

Suddenly Harper's voice came over the speakers:

"Hey guys! I've managed to get comms up and running... still no sign of Rommie. I went in and had a look, and all the information is still there, there's just nobody there to handle it... I mean, the computer is basically fine, it's the AI, the interface between the data and us, that's... um... gone."

"Any sign of our captains?" Tyr asked although he already knew the answer to that.

"No... hang on!"

The communication was broken. It sounded like Harper had thought of something and run off to check it. Tyr felt awkwardly powerless in the situation. This was all too technical. No muscle needed. Nothing he could do. Then the voice was back in the air:

"Ehum... yeah. I've checked it out and. well..."

Harper sounded like he was ashamed. 

"Out with it!" Tyr shouted, loud enough to make Trance jump.

"Well... I'm in the machine shop... I think... the channeller might have... gone off again. The time matches... and the location. It opened a portal on command deck for some reason... I think they might have... gone to another dimension."

"Where?"

"Back where we came from."

Oh great. Just fantastic. Tyr was just about to let Harper know exactly what he thought about that machine of his when the communication was once again cut off, this time to a piercing scream.

"Harper?"

No answer. Tyr headed for the door. Both Trance and Milon took a few running steps after him.

"Trance, you stay here and. keep an eye on Pitch. Milon, come with me," Tyr decided.

If Harper was injured right now, with the medical systems down, Milon might be in a better position to help him than Trance. Besides, whatever it was that had made Harper scream like that, Tyr felt better facing it with Milon by his side than the girl.

They arrived at the machine shop, the door held open by a metal bar, only a narrow gap between the door and the wall. Milon squeezed through easily, but Tyr was too big. He would have pulled the door open, but his broken rib had been forgotten in all haste. He could only stick his head through the gap and look into the room. At first he could see no sign of Harper. Then he looked again, and spotted him perched on a high shelf. The machine was buzzing, electric sparks flying.

"Milon, watch out! That thing might go off any second!" Harper called down.

As if the machine had heard him, a beam of light suddenly shot across the room. Milon dodged to the side, his lightening fast reflexes saving him from getting hit.

"How do you turn it off?" he shouted.

"I don't know! It's not supposed to have any power! But it's like it's become completely self-sufficient for some reason!"

"Oh, that's just..."

Milon did not make it any further. A second beam of light shot out, this time leaving him no window for reacting. It hit him right in the stomach, throwing him back towards the door with such force that Tyr could hear the metal of the door sing from the impact.

"Milon?"

Tyr could not see where the boy had landed because the door was in the way. Not for long. Ignoring his protesting ribcage, Tyr forced the door open and Milon's body fell out into the corridor. There was a large, burnt hole in the front of his T-shirt.

"What are you doing? Stay out!" Harper shouted.

The machine was still shooting sparks, ready to fire again at any second. Tyr scooped Milon up and carried him around the corner, out of the way of the rampant device.

"Hey, what about me?" Harper called.

"Jump down. Make a run for it."

Tyr heard him mumble something unappreciative and then a thud as Harper's feet hit the floor. Seconds later he came darting around the corner, throwing himself out of the doorway as if under enemy fire. Tyr turned his attention back to Milon, who to his surprise opened his eyes and looked up.

"Oh... I feel... really weird..." Milon said.

"Are you alright? You got hit by that beam! Right in the chest, I saw it!" Harper said.

Milon looked down at his destroyed clothes and pulled the T-shirt up. There was a glowing circle on his chest, fading as they stared at it, but the skin underneath was undamaged.

"I'm fine... might be because my cells are built to handle light... I don't think either of you should risk it though."

"I'm not," Harper said.

Tyr sank down on the floor, rubbing his aching side. He hated being injured. Not because of the pain, but because it hindered him. Slowed him down.

"Yeah, sorry, forgot about that," Milon said and put his hand to Tyr's side.

But he had not said anything! Surely, the boy could not read his mind? Tyr just closed his eyes as the warm, wonderful buzz travelled through his chest, chasing away the pain.

"That better?" Milon asked, jumping to his feet.

"Yes."

Trance had told Milon that he should take it easy, but he had healed some major injuries on Pitch and now Tyr's rib, all in the space of half an hour. That was more than he had been capable of six months ago. Tyr had seen how much the healing power took out of him, but right now he was standing there not even breaking a sweat.

"So no idea how to turn it off?" Milon asked Harper.

"Well... the power is looping through it. It could open another portal at any time... I'd have to drain the power somehow... but I can't even get in the room with it! And all the computers are down."

"It sounds like it has slowed down some," Tyr observed. 

When he glanced into the room, the machine did not seem to be throwing quite as many sparks as before. Still, he did not really feel like going in there and risking it.

"Yeah, it does!" Milon said, looking like he was thinking hard about something.

Harper turned to look at him, also looking like he had something in mind.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Harper asked.

Milon nodded.

"Probably. I was thinking that maybe the beam that got me did some good after all... I feel all charged up! Never felt better as a matter of fact..."

"Yes!" Harper was getting really enthusiastic now, "I was just thinking that some of the excess energy from the machine was transferred into you... the pressure was relieved a little and..."

"... and if I managed to do it again, maybe that would eventually shut it down!" Milon finished.

The two humans nodded in excited agreement. Reckless little people...

"No!" Tyr blurted out.

Milon and Harper turned and looked at him with identical, questioning looks on their faces.

"It's too dangerous! I mean... it is not worth risking your life for... you are more use to me alive."

"Ah Tyr! I wouldn't do it if I didn't think it'd work!" Milon smiled at him.

Tyr suddenly realised that for once he was completely helpless to stop this. Milon was not part of the crew; Tyr had no real authority over him. He could go on about security risks and such, but the fact of the matter was that Milon would not endanger anything but himself. Still it was worth the try:

"No. I have already made my decision, it is too dangerous. We will have to find another way..."

"Tyr, come over here for a second..."

Milon grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hall, away from Harper. He looked up at Tyr, so determined-looking, and almost whispered at him:

"Tyr, I hate to say this to you, but I already know you feel it. Empath, remember? No, you can't stop me, and you know it. I know you care, and I'm glad you do, but you're not my boss. Sorry."

Of all the stupid, conceited things to say! Tyr felt the anger light up inside him. Not just frustration, not anymore, this was the last straw! He was not even trying to sound calm when he said:

"Well then, throw your life away if that is what you are so set on doing! I could not care less! You are not part of this crew and I hold no responsibility for your safety! And you presume to know what my feelings are, you do not know anything!"

He turned around and started walking down the corridor, leaving Milon's surprised face behind. 

"Hey, Tyr, where are you going?" Harper called after him.

Tyr did not answer. He turned the corner and headed back to sick bay.


	16. Channeller

Chapter Sixteen: Channeller

Where was he going? There was nothing he could do in the medical room. There was nothing he could do anywhere. He was useless, and hating every minute of it.

As he reached the half open door of the medical unit, he could hear quiet talking inside. For a second he contemplated eavesdropping, but he was feeling much too cranky to do anything stealthy. Instead, he just walked into the room. Pitch was sitting up on the medical table, and Trance was sitting beside him, far too close to be called a professional distance. They were both smiling and Trance looked almost as if she was blushing. Had the man no shame! First Beka, and now this! Although, Tyr would much rather this. Harper would probably not be too impressed. And was Trance not supposed to like Milon? Well, it was obviously not natural. He was influencing her judgement, just as he had Beka's. And she was falling for it. Silly girl.

"Hey Tyr, what's up?"

Pitch turned his head and met Tyr's eyes. For a second, Tyr could see some of the warmth in the darkness, then it disappeared. Obviously Pitch knew better than trying to "charm" Tyr.

"What is going on here?" Tyr asked coldly.

"We were just talking..." Trance said quickly, jumping down off the table.

"Where's Miles?" Pitch asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Milon has decided to try and stop the overloaded channeller by letting himself get hit by the beam that opens the portal," Tyr told him curtly.

"What?"

That took the smile off his face alright. Pitch jumped off the table and stared at Tyr.

"Where is he?"

"Machine shop four."

"Yeah, like that means anything to me! Show me!"

Tyr felt like saying no. But he knew that would only spark off another confrontation. He had promised a truce... so instead he just shrugged his shoulders and walked out.

"Milon what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Pitch stopped in the doorway to the machine shop and just stared. He was blocking Tyr's view. Tyr pushed him aside enough to see into the room. Milon did not reply to his friend's outburst. As a matter of fact, he probably did not even hear him. He was standing in the middle of the room, glowing strongly. A beam of light extended from one of the five transmitters of the machine, straight to Milon's chest. It was making him shake, as if he was getting an electric shock. It was impossible to tell if it was doing him damage or not. It was even hard to tell if there was any pain. At least he was not screaming.

Harper had squeezed himself into a corner, just staring at the scene before him. As Pitch shouted out, his head snapped to the side and he spotted them in the doorway. 

"Stay out!" Harper shouted.

"Stay out my arse..." Pitch mumbled and then before Tyr could stop him, he threw himself into the room, knocking Milon out of the way of the beam.

The machine was humming quietly, not shooting any more sparks. But Milon was glowing like mad, still shaking from the power.

"What did you do that for! It was working!"

Milon stood up. He was still glowing, almost too bright to look at.

"What were you trying to do? Kill yourself?"

"No! Just get the channeller to stop overloading..."

Harper ran out of his corner, over to the machine. He climbed on top of it and pulled out a screwdriver.

"Phew! That's it, I've deactivated it. We're safe..."  
He had not even finished the sentence when a rapidly growing buzz started spreading in the room. Then, without more of a warning, the machine exploded. Deadly shards of metal whizzed through the air in all directions. They threw themselves to the floor, shielding their heads. Seconds later, it was all over. Where the homemade channeller had once stood, there was now a wreck of blackened metal. The three people in the room, and Tyr in the doorway, stood up and looked around. As if by a miracle, nobody had been injured.

"Harper!"

Tyr strode into the room and grabbed Harper by the front of his T-shirt, lifting him up in the air.

"Hey! I wasn't to know it was going to do that!" Harper squirmed to free himself.

"Put him down!" Milon said.

"You could have got us all killed!" Tyr roared at Harper, who just squeezed his eyes shut.

"Let him go!"

Milon took a few steps over to Tyr and grabbed his arm. It did nothing, Tyr hardly even noticed him, that was how angry he was. 

"I said, let him go!"

Suddenly there was a bright flash and Tyr was thrown across the room. He slid across the room on his back at a fair speed. Looking up, he could see Beka staring down at him. And here he was, polishing the floor. How embarrassing. Then he hit the wall. There was a smell in his nose, like lightning or ozone. He was not really hurt, but confused. He stood up and looked over at Milon who was still shining brightly, giving him a sort of guilty, frightened look.

"You did that?"

It seemed an unnecessary question, but Tyr had just never imagined Milon that powerful.

"I didn't mean to... I've never done anything like that before..."  
It was the power from the Channeller of course. All that raw force that the boy had absorbed. No wonder he had become more powerful than he had even known was possible. But how had he seen Beka? She was gone. She was in the other dimension.

"Did you see that?"

Harper was jumping up and down with excitement.

"Yeah, I think we all saw that..." Pitch said, "Miles. Any idea what you did?"

"Yes. No... I mean... you know the way we never knew what Genies channellers were? I think they can be any kind... it's like magnetism. I can't explain."  
Tyr, Pitch and Harper just looked at him. Shining like a star, but not making any sense. 

"Don't you understand?" Milon seemed to be speaking to Pitch now, "It's not the gelfs... it's the energy! All you do is... channel it!"

He laughed a small laugh and walked over to where the machine had stood. Now there was just a burnt chunk of metal.

"I'll show you then..."

They watched as the glow around Milon started to increase again. The five points of the star that had been the centre of the old channeller suddenly started to glow. The air seemed to thin, the middle of the room change. Then Tyr could see Beka again. And Dylan. And Rommie. They were just standing there, staring right at them. Or at Milon probably. He was shining so brightly. Then the glow died down, the room looked normal once again. And Beka, Dylan and Rommie were still standing there.

"Now do you see?" Milon asked. 

And then he collapsed on the floor.


	17. Deja Vu

Chapter Seventeen: Deja Vu

They had been here before. In just the same situation. Actually, it was getting old. Sickbay. Pitch, standing by the bed, arms crossed. Tyr standing by wall. Trance scanning and re-scanning the comatose Milon, not finding anything physically wrong with him. Suddenly, Pitch turned around and looked at Tyr with his piercing black eyes.

"Will you promise me one thing?" he asked.

"That depends on what it is," Tyr said calmly.

"If we get out of here, Miles and me, and go back home, will you make sure Harper never ever gets in his head to build another channeller? I never want to see this place ever again."

"I would be happy to."

Tyr held back a smile at the thought of getting rid of Pitch once and for all. And when Milon came to, he would have a talk with him. Repair the damage that had been done the last time around. And maybe he would stay. Actually, maybe the two of them would have to stay. 

The light had gone; Milon was not shining any more. Even if Harper managed to build another channeller, they would have to find the energy to power it somewhere. The strain on Milon the last time had been too much for them even to consider that option.

"I think he's coming to..." Trance said studying the readouts on her handset.

Pitch and Tyr both took a step forward, waiting for Milon to open his eyes. They did not have to wait long.

"Hey... have I been out long?" Milon asked.

"A few hours. How do you feel?" Tyr said.

"Head's a bit heavy. I'm alright. Are Dylan and Beka... did they get through okay?"

Pitch nodded and stepped right up to the bed, studying Milon closely.

"Do you remember what you did? You channelled them. Never knew you could..."

"I remember. But I couldn't do it again, if that's what you're asking. Whatever that beam did to me... it was like I could just feel the magnetic lines, the forces going through the dimensions... it was pretty weird. I can't feel it anymore though..."  
He almost looked a little sad, Tyr thought. And of course, if you had that kind of power and then lost it, who would not feel sad? But then Milon sat up in the bed and smiled.

"So, what now? Are we going or staying or what?"

He looked from Tyr to Pitch to Trance and back again. 

"Going!" Pitch said.

"Can you not stay?" Trance asked, but it was hard to tell which one of them she was asking.

Tyr stayed silent. He knew this had to be done, of course, but he would so much rather talk to Milon in private. In his heart he might have decided to let that stony surface down and admit to Milon that he regarded him as a friend, but to say it in front of everyone... he was not quite ready for that yet.

Eventually they left. Pitch and Trance, exchanging some rather mystical looks. Whatever. Tyr took a deep breath and said:

"I think we need to talk..."

"Hmm. You angry 'cos I blasted you with the light thing? Or is it because I said you're not my boss?"

"No... no. I am not angry."

"I know."

That smile again. Why did he insist on constantly threatening to make Tyr grin like a hopeless schoolboy?

"What I was trying to say was... I think you should stay on board. I know that you would be of great benefit to the crew."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. And also, I have come to... appreciate you as a... "

He was interrupted suddenly as the door opened. Harper stuck his head in, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Guess who has just completed the construction of a perfectly working, new channeller!" he beamed.

"Nice one!" Milon said, "what about power?"

"Well, I have to say that I have really learnt a lot from watching you in action! We've some sweet readouts from the time space distortion that pulled our two beloved captains back; we've this whole new way of looking at energy... I haven't figured it all out, not yet, but it's just a matter of time. After all, I am a genius!"

"Yeah you are," Milon laughed, "I still only understand about 40% of what you say. And that's when you're _not_ talking about engineering!"

"You are doing a lot better than most of us then," Tyr said, but he could not help smiling slightly at Harper.

"Whatever. Anyway, celebration dinner in the mess at seven. It is considered polite to bring a bottle. Guess that rules you out, Tyr."

He made a face and then darted out the door as quick as he could when Tyr took a threatening step in his direction.

God only knows where Harper had managed to get his hands on such relatively large amounts of alcohol. Despite the fact that Tyr did not drink himself, he could tell that it was not exactly top of the range drink, but nobody seemed to have any complaints. Especially not Harper himself.

The dinner, however, had been very nice. Mostly because of the fact that Tyr had insisted on 'helping' in the making of it. Nobody on this ship seemed to be able to cook to save their lives. For once, everybody seemed happy. As the evening went on, they grew even happier. And finally there was a moment where Tyr found Milon alone and unobserved and had the chance to pull him to the side.

"We need to talk," Tyr said.

"What's wrong?"

Milon gave him a worried look. Always prepared for the worst. Just like Tyr would have taught him if he had been his responsibility.

"Nothing is wrong. Last time I was interrupted before I had the chance to finish."

"Oh, yeah. I can't stay. I... you know I can't."

"Why is that?"

Tyr felt a bitter disappointment swell inside him, but suppressed it before it could turn into anger and cause even further damage.

"This isn't my world! And there's so much that needs to be straightened out at home... it's just not happening. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise," Tyr said and shrugged his shoulders, "it is all the same to me."

For a second he wondered why Milon was giving him that almost saddened smile, and then he remembered. Empathy. Damn.

"Here, come over and have a drink with us. You'll feel better..."

Why not? Why struggle so hard to do the healthy thing, the right thing, when everything still turned bad no matter what? Shrugging his shoulders yet again, Tyr followed Milon over to the rest of the crew.

"We're heading soon, yeah?" Tyr heard Pitch asking his friend.

Milon just nodded, a small subtle gesture, like it was a secret message. Then the door opened and Harper came in. Had he left the room? Tyr had not even noticed.

"It's ready," he said.

"Right, cheers for having us then," Pitch said and raised his glass.

"Are you going now? Why not tomorrow?" 

The question left Tyr's lips before he had a chance to stop it. Milon looked at him quietly for a few seconds. Reading his feelings, no doubt. And Tyr had no idea how to resist an empathic probing. All he could do was just stand there and let it happen. Then Milon just nodded and handed him a glass.

"No time like the present."  
Dylan said something that Tyr missed and then the rest of them said their goodbyes. Whatever. They had not even known Milon. Not seen him sick and dying on the one hand and so full of life it was almost impossible on the other. Not had their lives saved by him. They were not going to miss him. They just said their little speeches, drank up and walked down to the machine shop. And all Tyr could do was empty his glass and follow.

It was deja vu alright. It was almost routine by now. Charging up the channeller, one way or another. This time, thankfully, the other. Milon would not have to put his life at risk just to leave them. At least that was something. As the portal opened, Tyr got a hazy glimpse of that other city. The rainwashed streets, the howling winds, the broken glass and rusty, burning barrels lighting up the places were the streetlight had been long since smashed. His thoughts returned to the time he had been running through those streets, chasing Milon just for fun. He never did anything just for fun.

"Right, see ya then."

Tyr was snapped out of his memories as Pitch was holding out his hand towards him. A gesture of friendship now? What was next?

"No, I do not think you will," Tyr said.

"It's an expression..."

Pitch gave him an amused grin. Tyr just ignored it and shook his hand briefly. This was almost worse. At least before they had been proper enemies. Well, it was all the same now. Then Milon was standing in front of him.

"I hope you do not plan to hug me again..." Tyr said, regretting it even before he had finished the sentence.

Not that he would not feel awkward and more... at a loss if Milon actually did, but it just sounded wrong. It was just not the last thing he wanted to say.

"Alright, I won't."

Milon looked at him with those searching eyes again. A smile flickered across his face. And suddenly Tyr was smiling too. This was stupid. For all the thinking and planning. All the decisions and changing. It would just go back to being like before. It was ridiculous feeling bad about it. Milon would be fine. If there was something Tyr had learnt about him, it was that he could take care of himself. Everything was going to be just fine, he knew it. And so he smiled and said:

"Ah sod it, c'mere."

Milon laughed at him, but made no attempt at avoiding Tyr's rather ham-fisted hug. And there was more laughing in the room, but Tyr didn't feel embarrassed. Laughing was good.

"Hey, less of the crushing..." Milon said.

And Tyr had to let him go.

Milon walked across the room to join Pitch in front of the channeller. As Pitch stepped through without looking back, Milon turned and looked Tyr in the eyes one last time.

"Told you that drink would make you feel better," he said.

"Yeah, I know," Tyr nodded, "I knew you were gonna do it. It's okay."

Then the air thickened and they were gone, leaving Tyr with a taste of exploding oranges in his mouth. Smiling.

End

A/N: Right, that's it. Another crappy ending. I really can't end things. Sorry for leaving it so long as well, inspiration not exactly overflowing at the moment. Well, at least it's done now!


End file.
